


Men in Your Dungeon

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Day Collars, Edging, Femdom, Multi, Orgasm Denial, Possession, Rough Sex, Submissive Genji Shimada, Submissive Jesse McCree, Submissive Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Teasing, pillow humping, solo masturbation, submissive Hanzo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2018-12-26 13:54:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 110
Words: 82,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12060333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: Assortment of femdom drabbles too short to be oneshots from my tumblr. Enjoy <3





	1. Content Page

Contents:

1\. Jack Morrison - Tease and Denial (NSFW)  
2\. Reaper - Ruined Orgasm (NSFW)  
3\. Reinhardt - Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Edging (NSFW)  
4\. Hanzo - Primping and Preening (NSFW)  
5\. Genji - Collars and Sex (NSFW)  
6\. Junkrat - Day Collars  
7\. D.Va - Possession  
8\. Lucio - Teasing (NSFW)  
9\. Lucio - Lactation and Mommy Kink (NSFW)  
10\. Roadhog - Dominance (Part 1)  
11\. Reaper - Hickey Necklace (NSFW-ish)  
12\. McCree - Begging and Crying (NSFW)  
13\. McCree - Pillow Humping (NSFW)  
14\. Genji - Body Worship (Him) (NSFW)  
15\. Roadhog - Rough Sex (NSFW)  
16\. Hanzo - Mine  
17\. Roadhog - Dominance (Part 2)  
18\. Reaper - Coming Home  
19\. Reinhardt - Cuddles  
20\. Roadhog - Differences  
21\. Genji - Sparring Techniques  
22\. Jack Morrison - Hard to Get (NSFW)  
23\. Soldier 76 - Keep Your Head Down (NSFW)  
24\. Genji - Poke Your Nose In  
25\. Genji - Laser Pointer  
26\. McCree - Sitting In Your Lap (NSFW)  
27\. Poly!Reaper76 - Cold  
28\. Poly!McHanzo - Annoyance  
29\. Poly!Roadrat - Cool Your Heels  
30\. Lucio - Spanking (NSFW)  
31\. Hanzo - Yours (Sequel to Mine)(NSFW)  
32\. Junkenstein - Wrapped Up  
33\. Junkrat - Hands  
34\. Genji - Kintsugi  
35\. Hanzo - Birds and Dragons  
36\. Gabriel Reyes - Pumpkin Queen and Knight  
37\. Sombra - I'm In (NSFW)  
38\. Doomfist - Lucky Number (NSFW)  
39\. Junkrat - Ride (NSFW)  
40\. Hanzo - Service  
41\. Soldier 76 - Keep Your Mouth Shut (Sequel to Keep Your Head Down) (NSFW)  
42\. Hanzo - Sensei Headcanons (only a little of NSFW)  
43\. Lucio - Not Knot, Knot Not (NSFW)  
44\. Reinhardt - Tired of Waiting (NSFW)  
45\. Lucio - Prostate Milking & Overstimulation (NSFW)  
46\. Poly!ReapZo - Introductions (NSFW)  
47\. McCree - Sit In Your Lap (Part 2) (NSFW)  
48\. Ana - Naughty Nurse (NSFW)  
49\. Genji - I'll keep the remote (NSFW)  
50\. Genji - Smile for the camera (NSFW)  
51\. Genji - Free Will  
52\. Genji - Ahegao  
53\. Genji - Lap Dance (NSFW)  
54\. Genji - You look too good from behind (NSFW)  
55\. Genji - Record yourself (NSFW)  
56\. Hanzo - Bend over and smile (NSFW)  
57\. Hanzo - Dominating Him (NSFW)  
58\. Hanzo - Not for another week at least (NSFW)  
59\. Hanzo - Count to ten (NSFW)  
60\. Hanzo - Swimsuits and changing rooms (NSFW)  
61\. Hanzo - Begging (NSFW)  
62\. Hanzo - That piercing (NSFW)  
63\. Hanzo - No, don't sit (NSFW)  
64\. Roadhog - Dominance (Part 3)  
65\. McCree - Follow her lead (NSFW)  
66\. Genji - Entertain yourself (NSFW)  
67\. McCree - Oral Fixations  
68\. Lucio - Didn't expect you to shave (NSFW)  
69\. Genji - Love Bites and Possession  
70\. Genji - Too eager (NSFW)  
71\. Genji - Not a sound (NSFW)  
72\. Reaper - This is about control  
73\. Brigitte - You don't think you can cum again? (NSFW)  
74\. Symmetra - More (NSFW)  
75\. Genji - Challenge accepted (NSFW)  
76\. Reaper - Show me you can follow orders (NSFW)  
77\. Junkrat - You wanted me to be rough (NSFW)  
78\. Zenyatta - Ready for more (NSFW)  
79\. Young Genji - Entertain yourself (NSFW)  
80\. Genji - Some demons linger  
81\. McCree - Leather pants (and why they should be outlawed)  
82\. Hanzo - First pets  
83\. Soldier 76 - First lovings  
84\. McCree - Wet Dreams  
85\. Soldier 76 - Drabble  
86\. Lucio - The Perils of Bathing  
87\. McCree - Sit in your lap (Part 3)  
88\. Reaper - Fate  
89\. McCree - Separation Anxiety  
90\. Genji - Separation Anxiety  
91\. Genji - Attractive  
92\. Reaper - Never Forgotten  
93\. Soldier 76 - Kindness  
94\. Genji - Flavoured Lube  
95\. Blackwatch Boys - I like big butts, I can not lie  
96\. McCree - Fear  
97\. Hanzo - Bump in the night  
98\. Reaper - Hand holding  
99\. Hanzo & Genji - Bells  
100\. Hanzo - Heats and ruts  
101\. Genji - Step on me  
102\. Genji - Should've Known Better  
103\. Mercy - Trauma  
104\. Gabriel Reyes - Sock on a Cock  
105\. Hanzo - Manscaping  
106\. Hanzo & Genji - Temples  
107\. Several - Working Out  
108\. McCree - Toy  
109\. Reinhardt - Tired of Waiting (Part 2)


	2. Jack Morrison - Tease and Denial

Jack Morrison has will of iron, but it is tested when he has to deal with the plug sending ripples of pleasure down his spine. He holds out for an hour, then another, and then runs to you during his lunch break with his eyes wild and his chest heaving. You don’t take any pity on him, and simply caress his straining bulge with one hand and stroke his jaw with the other. Come back at the end of the day, and you’ll have a reward ready for him.

He’s enamoured with the idea of relieving this pressure, holds out the rest of the day with difficulty. And then, then, he meets you in his rooms and he strips naked and squirms on the bed as he fondles his nipples and gives you bedroom eyes.

Touch me. Fuck me. Ruin me. His eyes say it all.

But in the end, he’s screaming with frustration as you leave him on the edge time and time again, that cursed plug buzzing away inside him tirelessly.


	3. Reaper - Ruined Orgasm

Reaper snarls as you pin him to the bed by the neck, his shoulders flexing against the bedsheets. He wants to struggle, he wants to escape your grip, but your hand on his cock is incredibly distracting.

Up, twist, down. Up, squeeze, twist, down. Fuck, he can’t control his hips.

He thrusts up into your grip, growls under his breath wantonly. It’s been ages since you touched him, longer still since he’s touched you, but you cruelly keep out of the range of his lips as you pleasure him. His hands are pinned beneath his weight and he can’t wrestle them out with your hand derailing his every thought.

Reaper’s not one to beg, but even he can’t stem the hisses that implore you to let him cum. You smile, pause, then shift your focus to concentrate on the head of his weeping cock.

Close! So close! He’s going to-!

You stop, take your hand off completely, and Reaper screams. His cock jerks once, twice, and his cum beads and dribbles down pathetically. The ruined orgasm causing a warm ball of anger and humiliation and pleasure and yes he’s not worthy of cumming please ruin him to well up in his cold chest.

He comes out of his rage still spitting and hissing. Thanks you between frustrated pants, a faint smile stretching his scarred, wrecked lips.


	4. Reinhardt - Orgasm Control, Orgasm Denial, Edging

"Stay still."

Reinhardt whimpers and stiffens, forcing his legs straight on the bed in an attempt to stop his hips from humping the air. Between his ass cheeks a plug buzzes away, while a vibrating cock sleeve encased the head of his cock. Metal clips adorns his hard nipples with the chain attaching them held in his teeth. He's tearing up, dried tear tracks staining the sides of his temples and the pillow under his head.

Oh god it's been an hour, two maybe, since you first started to tease him. He can't speak, can't form words, and when he parts his lips nothing coherent escapes him. His mind is mush, and it's all he can do to try and still his oversensitive body. A camera shutter goes off, and Reinhardt moans pathetically, tilts his head back but sobs in pleasurable pain as he tugs on the nipple clamps.

It's like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, if the rock was the need to be touched and the hard place that he was already so overly sensitive. 

Hickeys decorate the pale flesh of his neck and shoulders, shiny from the sweat slicking his skin. His muscles tremble and he twitches uncontrollably, until you sigh and wrap your hand around his neck.

"Didn't I tell you to stay still?"

Reinhardt hiccups a sob, "Ent-entschuldigung, frau. Forgive me!" His mind is so scrambled he can't keep a hold on the English language; it makes you smile cruelly. His hips stutter under you, his control eroding away with your proximity. He's panting hard and sobbing madly, begging you to end it, end him, and let him cum.

His voice cracks halfway through his begging and he squirms in his bindings. His heels dig into the mattress. His muscles strain as he pulls hard against the rope and chains as he doubles over. 

"Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Oh frau please fuck me! Fuck me until I can't think of anything but you and your pussy and use me for your pleasure - aaaaaahhh!"

You have had your fill of his delicious begging and rip the sleeve off his cock, giving him a moment of reprieve. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you drop yourself on his cock and enjoy the ride as he thrusts his hips at a blinding pace. His huge cock hits your every spot and Reinhardt screams as he draws closer to his orgasm.

"Please please let me cum! Frau, aghhh bitte! I'm so close, so close!" he bellows and writhes under you, his face red and his body trembling with the effort of holding his orgasm at bay.

You purr, kissing him hard, "Cum for me, my pet."

Reinhardt screams his thanks repeatedly and cums hard, shoving up into you so hard that you see stars. His cum fills you up and oozes out of you as he slumps back onto the bed, still twitching with the aftermath of his orgasm. You crawl off him and lie down to rest, only to hear that he's still whimpering and sobbing. 

Oh right, the plug. You look over at his large body trying to curl into itself and shrug. Let's see how long he lasts without passing out.


	5. Hanzo - Primping and Preening

Hanzo tries to look his best for you all the time. Golden studs in his ears, a sparkly bar on the bridge of his nose, well tailored clothes that cling to his form beautifully. He makes sure he doesn’t skimp on the quality of his garments, his shoes, because he wants to make you proud to have him beside you. He wants to make you the envy of every other woman because you have him on your arm.

He rubs himself in your favourite scented oil, makes the bed and lays out all your toys and implements neatly. Slips into the dark silk kimono he’s been dying to show you and releases his hair from its confines. Strong, manicured fingers sweep his raven locks over his shoulders, the simple clean scent of his hair wafting up to his nose. 

Yes, he smiles at himself in the mirror, this will please you greatly.


	6. Genji - Collars and Sex

Genji holds himself above you, groaning as the sensation of being wrapped in you overwhelms him. He’s shaking, his thigh muscles clenching tight, as he tries desperately to hold his incredible strength back. His body, riddled with scars and cybernetics, are breathtakingly beautiful in the dim light of you room, and you tell him so.

He blushes, falls to his elbows to kiss you deeply. His cock glides in and out of you tirelessly despite the white hot pleasure pooling deep in his gut. Hard, throbbing, and already leaking cum, Genji pleads with you for mercy.

“Close! I’m so close!” he whispers your name in your ear as he begs, his hands digging into the bedsheets to ground himself. Your heat under him, your softness, your presence, it all drives him mad. “May I cum? Oh fuck, please may I cum!”

His collar clinks as he shakes, the sound making him impossibly harder. The sound of ownership. Of safety. A smile spreads across his ruined face despite his ache, and he buries his head into your neck.

“Mmm,” you decide to take pity on him and loop a finger into the leather collar. “You poor thing. Alright, fuck me harder. And don’t you stop until I’ve cum hard, you got it?”

“Aaaannhhhh! Ah, yes! Yes, oh yes, thank you!” he bites out and lets loose on you. His hips rammed into yours, his pace picking up until he feels like a jack hammer trying to nail you into the mattress. Tight and full, his balls slaps against your skin, and it’s another sensation atop a whole mountain of it that makes him sob and cry out your name.

A hand slips down from above your shoulder and he rubs your clit in time with his movements. You need to cum, you always need to come first, you always come first! He repeats the mantra in his head as cum starts to rise in his balls, and it succeeds somewhat, as he manages to push his orgasm back to hit your sweet spot with the tip of his cock.

Your screams and praises and the clinking of his collar are music to his ears, and he fucks you as hard as he dares until he feels you tighten around him like a silk glove. Oh fuck, ohhhh fuck you feel so good. Your orgasm milks his cock and he opens his mouth in a silent scream as he finally cums hard.

It rockets through him, seizing every muscle until he’s curled over you, twitching and spasming even as he rams himself hard against your hips to bury deep inside your pussy. Your pants in his ear, your hands clawing at his back, your pussy sucking his oversensitive cock. It’s heaven and hell all at once, and he whimpers as you withdraw yourself from his softening shaft.

“So good, such a good boy,” you murmur and let him rest against your chest, fingers still playing with his collar.

Genji chuckles weakly and raises a hand to cover yours at his neck. God, he loves you.


	7. Junkrat - Day Collars

Jamison doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, but he thinks he’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Here he kneels before you upon a pillow, head level with yours as you sit at the edge of the bed. In your hand is a simple collar, plain leather with only a D ring. This is a collar he knows well, one that has moulded to his shape after countless uses. But on the bed next to you sits a box containing all the wishes in the world.

He watches your hands as you place the leather collar on your lap and pick up the box, opening it to reveal a thick bracelet made of a material he can’t quite make out. The bracelet, made in your favourite colour, stands out from the dark silk it sits on. It’s…a little underwhelming, Jamie thinks, until you pick it up and unclasp it to show him the inside. Engraved on the interior reads ‘Property of’ with your name underneath it, and another similar engraving opposite it that reads 'Hers, always’.

Tears bead at the corner of his eyes, and Jamie has to duck his head to hide them from you. You coo at him, tilt his head up with your free hand, and smile, “Do you understand what this means, Jamie?”

He nods tearfully, swallows thickly before he replies, “That I’m yours forever. That you’re mine, forever. That everyone will know that I belong to you, and only you.”

Yes, Jamie thinks as you slip the day collar onto his wrist and clamp it shut, this is what it feels like to come home.


	8. D.Va - Possession

“The heck?” you snatch your elbow back from where it was braced on the table, looking at the smear of saliva on your forearm. “Hana?”

She grins widely and frames her chin with her dainty hands, “If you like it, you lick it! Everyone knows that!”

A laugh tears from your throat as you pat her head. It’s a nice thought, but it’s not as though the whole base doesn’t already know you’re together. “That’s sweet, babygirl, but I think your bracelets do enough of the talking.”

Said bracelets sparkle in the light as she crosses her arms and pouts cutely. “But you’re not marked, no one knows you’re mine,” she grumbles and plants her head onto your shoulder. You want to be annoyed that she slobbered all over your arm but you can’t bring yourself to get mad when she has a point.

You sigh and wrap an arm around her, bringing her close enough to bury your head into her neck. “Baby, if the heart eyes I’ve got for you aren’t enough, then just leave some hickeys on my neck the next time we make out. And…maybe we can get a ring too.” Your words make Hana beam and squeal, squirming into your embrace.

“You mean it?” her puppy dog eyes come out in full force and you laugh, pecking her forehead and hugging her close.

“Yeah, I mean it. I love you, babygirl.”

A heavy blush heats up her face and Hana’s eyes water as she leans into your touch, closing her eyes as she whispers back, “I love you too.”


	9. Lucio - Teasing

It is only by chance that you meet Lucio in the rec room in the middle of the work day. You haven’t seen him since he jumped out of bed to help Angela in the infirmary, and though it’s only been a few hours, you miss him badly. He smiles tiredly at you, leaning against the coffee machine as he waits for it to dispense his beverage. You, on the other hand, are here for something sweeter. And you don’t mean the snack that you have in your hand.

Slyly, you look over your shoulder to scan the small rec room. Empty. Good. He raises his brow at you as you draw closer and dump your haul on the counter next to the coffee machine.

“Babe?” he chirps curiously, raising a hand to your waist as you sidle up front and centre. You smile at his cute quip and trace the swirling tattoos on his arm, walking your fingers up to his chest.

“How’re you feeling, love?” you ask him quietly, raising a hand to trace the minor stress lines on his face. He looks like he’s been working for the past day, not just a few hours. “Angela work you too hard?”

Lucio chuckles lowly and shakes his head, resting his free hand on yours over his face. “Nah,” he sighs in pleasure, “Just had a few recruits come in with injuries. I heard it was because of the junkers.” Ah, those two hooligans. Then again, the new recruits weren’t the smartest of the bunch.

Still, you rub your thumb over his lips, “My poor boy. And it’s only lunchtime.”

He groans and leans into your touch. “Don’t remind me.”

Hmm, well, might as well give him something to look forward to at the end of the day. You grin and latch both fingers into the front of his shirt, shoving him back into the wall to pin him in place. Lucio gasps breathlessly as the wind is knocked out of him from the force, but it is quickly replaced by a wanton moan as you dart in to kiss him roughly.

His hands move to wrap around your waist as you suckle his lower lips and let your tongue dance with his, and Lucio squirms in pleasure as you cup one hand around his neck to force his head back into the wall. You’re merciless as you ravage him, kissing and licking and sucking until his lips are swollen and wet from your combined saliva. He tries to reciprocate your passion, tries to push back and kiss you in return, but you growl and push him flush against the wall with your entire body.

A helpless whimper escapes his lips, and you pull back to tap a finger over his kiss-reddened lips, “Shhh, not too loud, babyboy. Wouldn’t want someone to catch us, hm?”

Lucio pants and whines softly, pawing at you and trying to pull you back into a kiss. It’s still not quite quiet enough, you grin, as his soft noises still filter out through the open door. You undulate your body against his, grinding hard against the growing bulge in his pants, and you whisper in his ear, “It’s too bad that you’re too loud. What I wouldn’t give to have my way with you right now, babyboy.”

He sobs and grips your hips tightly, “Oh come on!”

You laugh and extricate yourself from him with great effort, much to his displeasure. Your hand reaches out to snag the filled coffee mug and place it in his hands before you grab your snack and saunter out of the room, leaving your aroused and frustrated lover behind.

But before you exit the room, you look over your shoulder to wink at him, “Just gotta get through the day, baby. I’ll be waiting~”

The resulting swear and groan makes you laugh as you skip back to where you came from. Oh, you can’t wait for tonight.


	10. Lucio - Lactation and Mommy Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically not quite a drabble, since it's like 1k words, but I can't think of a good title so I'm just gonna stick it here. Written as a fill for anon request for character of my choice with lactation and mommy kink.

Lucio can’t quite believe his eyes as you sit before him on the bed, the both of you completely bare from the waist up. He tries to keep his eyes on your face instead of your perfect breasts, but fail as they keep flickering up and down against his will. You grin and massage one tit, letting a pearly bead of milk form on the nipple.

He whimpers and fidgets in place, his hands wringing each other in his lap as he resists darting forward to capture your nipple in his mouth. He wants to be a good boy for you, to make his mommy proud that she raised him right; he has to wait.

“You want my milk, babyboy?” you coo, squeezing your nipple and moaning at the sharp zap of pleasure that sings through out. Lucio moans in tandem, watching breathlessly as milk streams from the kneaded breast down to your waist.

“Yes, mommy,” he gulps, fidgeting even more now. “May I have your milk, please?”

You roll your nipple in your fingers and wait a moment, teasing him, before you relent and sigh, beckoning him forward. Now that he has been given permission, Lucio scrambles over you as quickly as he can to lie between your legs and over your chest, his mouth level with your aching breasts. He mouths the fleshy mound and kneads at the other gently to relieve your ache, enjoying the softness of your chest. He takes his time to kiss your breasts and suck at them, but soon enough he can’t resist the allure of your milk.

The thin trail of milk had pooled in your belly button, and that’s where he starts as he licks it all up, cleaning you and making his way back to your nipple. He’s slow, methodical, and you don’t stop him because it feels so goddamn good. You praise him, praise his diligence as he closes his mouth around your areola and sucks gently.

A burst of warm, sweet milk bursts onto his tongue and he’s hooked. Lucio wraps his other arm around your waist and digs in, sucking harder to draw out the sweet liquid. His tongue isn’t idle either, and it flicks your stiff bud and teases it as he drinks deeply. The combination is heady and makes your head spin as you clench him tightly to your chest.

His teeth threatens the skin, and you are about to admonish him when it causes a quick ripple of pleasure to flicker in your lower belly. Fuck, you’re way too sensitive and every sensation is heightened. You’re moaning loudly now, stuttering out praises as he suckles you, and he grunts in the back of his throat in glee as you tighten your grip on his hair.

Lucio, meanwhile, is harder than he’s ever been. His cock is rock hard and about to break the seams of his pants, and he has no other choice but to rut into the mattress with both his hands busy. Your sweetness, combined with the softness of your flesh under his lips and the stiffness of your bud on his tongue and the heavenly noises you’re making - he wants to fuck you so badly right now.

Your legs tighten around his waist as your breast is drained dry of milk, but despite that Lucio keeps on sucking, keeps on toying with your nipple until you anchor your hand in his hair and pull him away. He whines when he’s forced to release your tit with an obscene pop, but stops when you direct him to your other full breast.

“Mommy’s got two tits, babyboy. Don’t forget to drink from the other one,” you coo at him and moan loudly when he latches on to your ignored nipple. His hand kneads at it, sucks hard and ruts his hips mindlessly into the bed. You’re wet, so fucking wet, as you stare down as his lips moving against your flesh and the motions of his throat as he drinks. You wonder briefly if you could ride him while he drinks from you, but then you grin - you didn’t have to wonder. Instead, you wrench him from your breast - ignoring his indignant yelp - and push him onto his back so you could straddle him.

Your hands made quick work of pushing down his pants and pulling aside your underwear as you sink down on his achingly hard cock. Lucio lets out a strained cry as he’s caught off guard by your silken warmth, and he can do nothing but pant and blearily eye you as you guide your nipple back to his lips. He brushes his lips against the flesh again before he closes his mouth around it to draw your milk from you, and the twin sensations of him pulling against your breast and his length in you makes your head spin.

From muscle memory alone, you start to ride him urgently, spurring him to suck harder on your breast. Lucio whimpers softly every time he bottoms out in you and he even has to let go of your nipple in order to swear out loud as he draws closer to his orgasm. With his lips pressed to the curve of your breast, he begs you to let him cum. He’s been such a good boy, hasn’t he? He’s helped you drain your breasts of milk and followed your every order. Hasn’t he earned his reward?

You shake your head at him playfully. No, your babyboy only gets his reward when your breasts are drained of milk, and he desperately gets back to work, sucking so hard that it makes stars pop behind your eyes. You fuck him harder, faster, and dig your nails into his skull as you finally feel the relief of your breasts emptying of milk. His tongue whirls around your nipple and he nibbles at it as roughly as he dares, his cock hits you in the right spot once. Twice. Thrice. And that’s enough to make you cum hard.

A scream tears itself from your throat and you claw at his back and head, smothering him into your chest as you rock desperately on his hips to prolong your orgasm. Lucio sobs and whimpers as you do so.

“Please, mommy! Please, I’m so close!” he begs you, suckling again at your nipple even though you have no more milk to give. “Please please please let me cum! Please let me cum!”

You purr at him and push him into your chest again, “Yes, babyboy. Cum for me. Cum for mommy!”

Lucio cries tears of joy and fucks up into you hard, sending you jerking on top of him with every thrust. He’s bucking his hips blindingly fast, and finally that string that’s been wound up tight in his abdomen finally unravels in a snap and he cums hard.

“Thank you thank you thank y- ahhhhhhhh!” his voice cracked as he shoves his cock into you as far as he can go, panting harshly as he unloads his cum into your waiting pussy. His orgasm is intense and he can only croak gently as he flops back onto the bed, spent.

The two of you lie there for a good while, trembling and exhausted from your orgasms. But soon, you lift yourself off of him and watch as your combined juices sluice off onto his hips. You’ll have to clean it up later, you think, but for now, it’s time to cuddle your well-behaved babyboy.

You gather him into your arms and he buries his head into your chest, thanking you for treating him so well. His mouth, whether unconsciously or no, gravitates back to your breast, and he closes his lips to suckle on it gently as he drifts off into a light doze.


	11. Roadhog - Dominance (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We interrupt your regular porn for a bit of angst. Here, have some tears with your smut. Depending on how I feel, this might turn out to be more than a single drabble/chapter.

When you return to yours and Mako’s shared rooms, it is to see him staring out the window with his arms crossed. Jamie is nowhere to be seen, though the acrid stench of smoke still lingers in the air. Hmm, he must have left recently, though it is strange to see one junker without the other. You approach your lover slowly, watching the muscles in his back tense as you grow closer.

It confuses you a little; his behaviour, that is. He’s never been so closed off and wary of your presence before. It worries you too, what happened to make him act like this?

“Mako?” you raise your hand to touch his shoulder, only for it to be snatched roughly and painfully. You let out a hiss in pain and jerk it back, but he doesn’t let go. You glare at him lightly, and use your sternest voice, “Mako, let go of my hand.”

He refuses to obey, his bare face scarily blank as he stares at you defiantly.

What the hell has gotten into him? “Mako, what the hell is going on? Answer me.”

It takes several minutes for him to answer, though your fierce expression leaves him no choice. He breathes in through his nose, and starts softly but harshly, “I’m not your bitch.”

You blink. What the fuck?

“I’m not your toy to use whenever you see fit. I’m not an errand boy, and I’m not your slave,” he growls, his hand tightening on your wrist enough to make you wince slightly despite your gritted teeth. “Base has been talking about how you’ve been using me.”

Toy? Slave? A fire burns and grows in your chest with every word he says, but your heart breaks at the hurt and despondent look in his eyes. You force the lump in your throat down, and husk out, “Toy? Slave? When the fuck have I ever made you into those? You’re my partner, Mako, no more, no less. Who the fuck’s been feeding this bullshit to you?”

He stays quiet, but steely anger still rages in his cold eyes. His grip is unyielding, though it stopped putting pressure on your considerably smaller bones. You ignore the pain, the stillness, and glare straight up at him.

“Being a toy or a slave means you have no fucking choice. That I never gave you a choice. Have I been using you, Mako? Did you feel like I have been using you against your will?” your voice cracks halfway through, but you power through it to finish your sentences. You can’t break in front of him. Not now.

The behemoth of a man grunts wordlessly, says nothing. Still matches your glare dagger for dagger. His hand loosens its grip, however, yet you are unaware.

Tears well up in your eyes, unbidden, and you grit your teeth at his silence. What does that mean? That he thinks he’s been used or he doesn’t? It feels like a frog is lodged in your throat, it’s so fucking hard to speak around it but you have to. “I have never forced you to do anything. I have never asked for more than you wanted to give. I always ask you if you want what I take, what I give. Were you lying the whole time?!” Your voice becomes more and more shrill against your will, and you have to shut up for a second to rein your emotions back in. Fuck, your vision is getting blurry. You swear and duck your head to angrily wipe your tears away.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Calm…calm…fuck you’re not calm, you gotta get out of here before you say or do something you’ll regret. “Fuck. I can’t do this right now,” you mutter and rip your wrist out of his grip with a sick crack and turn heel to stomp out of the room. But as you slip through the door, you turn around with slightly reddened eyes and grit out, “Think about it, Rutledge. If you get back to me, we can sort this out. If you don’t…then I’ll see you around the base.”

The door closes behind you as you storm through it, half wishing you could slam the door just to pacify your anger.

In the room, Mako stands where you left him, looking at the door you left through. His hand is still raised, and it shakes as he turns his gaze to it. He heard the crack earlier, the utter hurt in your voice and the devastation on your face, it wasn’t…

He falls to his knees, eyes squeezed shut and his balled hands pressed to his eyelids. What has he done…

He’s hurt you.


	12. Reaper - Hickey Necklace

There are times when Reaper wishes he were alive again. He can say that this is one of those times. Here he is with you in his lap, pinned against the sofa as you plant kisses up and down his neck.

He's moaning like mad, clutching you and kneading your ass like his life depends on it. He feels the wet suction of your mouth worrying at his skin, and he knows that if he were alive it would bloom like a rose on his tanned skin. Now though, it just turns slightly warm from your touch, but cools so quickly after that if he didn't just feel your lips, he wouldn't have known you were there.

Still, he enjoys the pleasure of you trailing your lips on his neck and biting down where possible. You're meticulous, covering every inch you can reach with your lips, teeth and tongue. You flicker kitten licks up and down where his pulse should be, bite down on the apple of his throat and the curve of his neck, and suck on the underside of his jaw. Reaper pants hard and throws his head back to expose more of him for you.

Fuck, how can he get so hard just from having you pay attention to his throat? He's absolutely straining in his pants. You're aware, he's sure, because you rock back and forth, teasing you both.

You pull back after a while, much to his consternation, and reach over for something over his shoulder. Reaper tries to turn his neck but you're quicker, showing him your prize. Lipstick in your favourite colour? He raises a brow at you. He hopes you don't think he's going to wear it.

A laugh escapes you as you read the question in his face. Obviously not, you tap his nose playfully. After all, you have better plans for this bit of cosmetic. Uncapping it, you slowly line your lips with it with a practiced hand, the colour popping out against your skin as you smack your lips to spread it evenly.

For something so mundane, Reaper is entranced. The softness of your lips is defined as you glide the stick over them, the colour making them glisten to a point where he's hard. He wonders idly if you'll suck him off with that lipstick on, which then made him imagine the lipstick ring around the base of his cock and that made him -

He's suddenly torn from him thoughts as you lean in close and plant your lips on his neck gently. You kiss him as hard as you can, feeling the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly. Again and again you kiss his neck, making your way from one side to the other until he's panting hard. You pull back then, halfway through, and he watches you reapply your lipstick with heavy lidded eyes, and they close when you get back to your work.

Kisses rain on his neck, heavy ones, light ones, pecks and then ones with tongue that make him squirm. You cover his throat, leaving no inch unloved, and finally you release him and lean back, admiring your work.

Upon his washed out pale skin is a plethora of kiss marks, each staining the skin and so obvious that it was on par with an actual hickey. You grin triumphantly, and snatch your phone to snap a photo to show him. Reaper is a little lost at first, but when he sees the photo his eyes darken and he bowls you over onto your back.

His lips meet yours in a clash of teeth and tongue, kissing you so passionately that you almost see stars by the time he pulls back. Reaper pants loudly, slips between your thighs and ruts against you hard, growling in your ear, "Fuck that's so sexy. You're so fucking sexy, how am I so lucky to have you?"

You laugh and draw him into another kiss, your legs wrapping around his waist as he ravishes you.

The next day, most of the lipstick has washed off and Reaper suits up, leaving his mask and hood off as he traces the remnants with a clawed hand. He wonders if you'll put more on him when he comes back.


	13. McCree - Begging and Crying

It's probably one of your best works yet, you think. Tied tight on his belly in a hogtie with one arm free, a vibrating prostate plug in his ass, his cock bent back and a vibrating frenum ring strapped tight to it, a mouth stuffed with a ball gag, and heavy duty nipple clamps, Jesse sure posed a very seductive picture.

He's trembling with want, his eyes tearing and begging you. Drool slips from the gag and to the bed, wetting the fabric under his cheek as he writhes in place. Tied as he is, Jesse can't move beyond squirming in place, and that's exactly how you like him.

You caress his balls with two fingers, the silky flesh moving as the sac tightens under your touch. "You just had to be naughty and break my rules again, didn't you baby?" you sigh, tapping with your nails to watch his balls jump. "Didn't I tell you not to touch yourself?"

Jesse groans, tries to mumble something through the gag, and though you can't hear what he's saying, you know exactly what he meant. Bending doesn't mean breaking, you can hear him say in that silky twang. You caught him humping a pillow when you expressly told him not to touch himself, almost cumming just as you entered. You don't like it when he circumvents your rules, you tutted at him as you forced his body into position. And now he's paying the price for his rebellion.

You switch your attention to his rock hard cock, flexing and throbbing, a bead of precum already forming at the tip. It gets some attention; you tickle your fingers up and down his reddening shaft, roll his foreskin back and forth to cover his head and back down. Jesse grunts in frustration and pants loudly, trying to roll his hips against the bed but unable to because of the position his legs are in. His body shakes as you swirl your finger around the slit and around the sensitive lip of his head, even more helpless moans filtering from around the gag.

The muscles in his ass flex and ripple as he gives in to the need to try and rut against the bed, and you're transfixed by it. Mmm, wouldn't it look better red? Yes, you think, leaving one hand to toy with his cock while your other scores harsh red lines on the tanned skin of his ass. Jesse screams from behind the gag, slobber flying as he jerks his head around. The pain combines with the pleasure of your finger dipping and spreading the slit of his cock, and his eyes fly wide open as you take one ball into your mouth and suck hard.

Oh fuuuuuck, Jesse howls at the top of his voice and struggles hard, his free hand digging into the bedsheets to try and hold onto his sanity. Everything is heightened; your nails, your tongue, your finger, and it's driving him mad because he can't move, can't beg you to touch him and make him cum.

You pop his balls from your mouth and tease his perineum, the hand that was scratching at his ass suddenly teasing the stretched entrance to his hole while the one at his cock starts to pleasure him in earnest.

Jesse goes wild at the plethora of sensations and he can't decide if he wants to buck into your mouth or free himself from his bonds or just lie there and scream his lungs out. He tries to plead at you but the gag is in the way. Fuck fuck fuck he wants to swear out loud, but instead he sobs big fat tears as you nibble at the skin separating his cock from his balls. It's too much too much too much he wants to cum so bad oh fuck please please please-!

He throws his head back and moans around the gag, ready to cum when suddenly you let go entirely. NO! Nonononononono he thrashes around in search of you, his head swinging back and forth to see you but he can't so he just slumps back onto the bed and groans at the feeling of his orgasm slipping back from the edge.

"Will you be naughty again, baby?" your voice is muted in his ears and he blearily blinks and shakes his head weakly. You're not convinced however, and tut, "Hmm, I don't think you're telling the truth. Guess we have to keep going until you learn your lesson."

His eyes squeeze shut and he trembles. He doesn't think he can do this again, doesn't think he can take another denied orgasm when he's so desperate for release. It's been a week since he last saw you, even longer since he last orgasmed. He can't take it!

But mercilessly, you go on, this time licking and lipping at his cock until he's writhing in his bonds. His knees jerk, trying to close but they're kept wide open by the ropes binding them to his arms. All the while the vibe digs at his prostate and is jostled every time he moves, sending waves of pleasure down his spine that are only exacerbated by your mouth on his weeping cock.

Jesse is loud, so so very loud as he whines and whimpers, with his tears streaming down his face and sweat slicking his skin and dampening his hair. He's wrecked, and you haven't even gotten to the good part. You do want to hear what he's trying to say, if anything, and remove his gag.

He works his jaw tenderly, swallowing back the pool of saliva that's gathered in his mouth. You can see him try to form words, but you don't want to make his begging easy on him.

The plug in his ass slides free easily, scraping hard against his sweet spot, and Jesse swears thickly at the sudden emptiness. Luckily for him, he doesn't stay empty for long, as you slide your fingers into the loose ring of muscle to probe at his prostate.

"Oh my god," he can only moan weakly as you pump your fingers in and out roughly. "Oh my gooOOood! Fuuuuuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!" His voice grows higher with every stroke against his prostate, and he doesn't even care that your other hand has roughened its pace on his cock. He's so overwhelmed by it all that he almost doesn't hear your question.

"Are you going to disobey me again, baby?"

Jesse clears his throat and chokes back a sob as he tries to work his tongue, "N-no!"

"I'm not convinced~" you sing and dig your fingers deeper against his sweet spot, sending him reeling and crying out loud.

Swears are the only thing leaving his mouth as he suddenly finds himself at that precipice again and then he switches to apologies. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I won't do it again! Please, oh please don't stop! Don't stoooooo-aaangghhh!"

He's cut off as you rip your hands off him. Sobs and swears tear out of him and he struggles to rut his hips against the bed. You watch him squirm and pant for a good while before he slumps back on the bed, defeated. You lean over him then, "So, are you going to break my rules?"

Jesse is delirious with denied pleasure, but all the same he manages to reply you with a weak smile on his face, "No. No, ma'am, I'll be - I'll be a good boy from now on. I'll be your good boy."

Yes, that's it. You grin and slip your fingers back, three this time, and work his prostate gently. "Whose ass is this?"

He's breathless as he replies, "Yours."

Your hand strokes his cock and concentrates on the head. "Whose cock is this?"

"Yours, ma'am," his accent is thicker now, almost to the point where you can't understand him.

A grin is stuck on your face now and you heave him upright onto his knees, shoving the plug back into him at full power. He cries out, yet still manages to concentrate enough to help you balance as you clamber into his lap. You remove the ring and stroke him roughly, planting your lips on his, "And whose is this?"

Lust has blown his pupils wide open, and a derpy smile radiates from him, "I'm all yours, ma'am."

You bark out a laugh, "You're goddamn right you're mine." And then you sink onto his red hot cock and Jesse yells so loudly he nearly cracks his voice. He's thrusting into you with everything he has, bracing himself to gain leverage to fuck into you as hard as he can. You likewise ride him with gusto, hands on his chest and twisting and pulling at his nipples as his cock strikes your sweet spot again and again.

Your boy is crying, sobbing, drooling onto his chest and babbling nonsense as he tries to gather enough thought to thank you. The plug in his ass bumps against his prostate as he thrusts, his ass meeting the bed every time he pulls out, and this soon proves to be too much for him because his eyes bulge wide open and he starts to beg.

"Fuckfuckfuck I need to cum I need to-! Oh please let me cum. May I please cum pleasepleaseplease oh fuuuuuuck!" he's gurgling his words and you collar your hands around his neck and squeeze tight. He's trying to choke something out, and you lean your ear in close tauntingly.

"Sor-haugh. I'm s-sorry. I won't do it again!" you make out faintly. The rest of his words are an amalgamation of apologies and thanks and praises and you kiss him hard, so very satisfied, and finally give him permission to cum.

"Cum for me, boy. Cum in me, fill me up," you hiss into his ear and watch as his eyes roll back into his head. His hips fuck up into you like a jackhammer until he rams himself in all the way, banging roughly against your cervix and staying there. Cum, warm foreign, floods into you as Jesse cums hard. You can feel every flex and twitch and throb of his cock in you, and you bear your weight into his lap as your own orgasm rips through you, milking his weakened cock for everything it's worth.

Your hands grip his shoulders tightly as the both of you try to calm your racing hearts, but once you let go he slumps backward onto the bed in a painful position, his bones and muscles like jelly after the intense session. Quickly, you slide off him and his softened cock, rolling him onto his side so you can begin untying him.

He's quiet throughout it all, drifting between the lines of consciousness and sleep. Aftershocks still rock through his exhausted body, and you gather him close once you pool the rope aside.

"Good boy," you coo into his ear as he rests his head against your chest. "You did very well, I'm so proud of you."

Jesse hums contentedly and exhales deeply with a tired smile on his face, burrows into your soft chest and enjoys the feeling of you wrapped around him.


	14. McCree - Pillow Humping

Jesse tiptoes into your room, the bed still rumpled from when you left it a week ago. The pillows still hold your scent, if ever so faintly, and he tumbles into it with a relieved groan. He strips slowly, caressing himself and imagining you were removing his clothes and teasing him.

"Mmm such a slut, aren't you babyboy? I haven't even touched you and you're already leaking!" you would squeeze his cock tight and he whines loudly, your other hand massaging his balls roughly until tears prick at his eyes.

He throws his clothes to the ground haphazardly and clambers into bed, nicking a pair of underwear that he filched from your laundry basket. It's dry and the gusset is scrunched up from your dried fluids, but your scent is still strong and he holds it up to his nose, breathing in deeply. Ah, what he would give to have you in front of him, legs wide open and teasing him with your glistening pussy.

"Please please let me lick your pussy," he grunts into the empty bedroom, straddling one of your pillows with his knees wide. He stuffs your panties into his mouth and tastes the remnants of your essence on it, turning him on so much he starts to rut against the pillow. It's no substitute for your hand, mouth, or pussy, but it's sensation and that's all he needs.

He folds the pillow over his cock in a practiced motion and flops face first into another pillow, taking out the panties from his mouth to lay it on the pillow in front of his nose. Like this, he can pretend that he's eating you out while you deny him from touching himself. Your musky scent surrounds him and his hips jerk into motion, thrusting hard against the pillow, grunting hard as his pelvis meets fabric. He moves faster, harder, and moans deep in his chest.

"Mmm god you feel so good Ma'am, I love your pussy. So fucking tight and wet and gripping me like a tight fist -o ohh fuckkk!" he buries his nose against your panties, fucking the pillow even harder. "You've been teasing me for so long, I haven't cum in ages. My balls feel so full! I need to cum, oh please let me cum tonight! I'll be such a good boy for you, I'll do anything for you. Oh god let me taste your nipples-" he sucks on the panties, his tongue whipping around it like he was suckling on your nipples. He imagines your hungry cries as he rams into you like a man possessed and reciprocates with throaty growls.

"Yesyesyes suck my cock, oh god your pussy feels so fucking good, fuck me!" he swears breathily. "I wanna fuck you until you cum and then keep going and not stop until you're breathless and twitching. I wanna fuck you so hard you can't walk. Cum in you so many times that when you take a step, my cum will run down your thighs. Fill you up until it's oozing out of you when I pull out," the fantasies run rampant in his mind and his vision goes white as the thought of doing all that to you tips him over the edge.

Jesse cums hard with a triumphant groan and your taste on his lips. He lies there, panting, senses full of your scent and your memory until he comes to and sits back up. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he shifts to get off your bed when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder, scaring the shit out of him.

He whips around and freezes, met with your hungry, predatory gaze as your hand wraps around his neck.

"What did you say you wanted to do, pet?"

Oh fuck, he's so screwed.


	15. Genji - Body Worship (Him)

"You're beautiful, you know that?" you murmur to him as you plant your lips against his metal jaw. He's all gleaming silver and glowing green, so pretty in the dim light of your quarters. You stripped what armour you could from his body before you began, and slowly you caress the bits of flesh that you can reach from where you sit on the couch before him.

Genji's breath hitches, then he smiles ruefully as he rubs his thumbs against the hands you have planted on his hips. "Thank you. I'm under no illusions that I am the man I used to be, but thank you." He knows full well what his past has wrought on his body, knows that he is no longer handsome in the traditional, or even modern, sense of the word. What isn't metal or cybernetic is heavily scarred or burned or otherwise marred. The winding dragon upon his flesh ruined and dull. His eyes are brown still, but it doesn't look quite human. All in all, well, Genji's sure he's the furthest thing from beautiful, but the way you say it makes him want to believe it.

You scoff at him and press your lips to the thick scarred flesh where his body meets his metal prosthetics, kissing it gently. "I think you've had enough of me rambling on about what I love about your appearance," your tongue snakes out to lick a line up his chiseled abdomen, grinning widely. Your hands slip out from under his and caress his thighs and knees, enjoying the strange feeling of synthetic muscle and metal fibres under your palm.

He sighs at your touch, your words, and then bows his head, "I...would not mind hearing it again."

"Greedy boy," you tut at him playfully and bite down on his flesh hip. From the top of his thigh to the inner bit, your hands put as much pressure as you dare so that he can feel your touch. It isn't much, as he has told you before, but enough that he trembles at the sensation. The grey synthetic muscles forming his inner thighs are sensitive to your touch, and he moans as you massage them gently.

You kiss a line down his abs, his hip, then teasingly breathe over his crotch before you stand up to lock your lips with his. He reciprocates hungrily, clamping his hands on your hips to pull you flush to him. He's cool and hot at the same time, the cybernetics generating heat but also cold in his extremities. The contrast makes you squirm against him, and he moans against your lips.

"Your lips," you whisper into his mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck, "are heavenly. Soft, warm, and so very skilled. Have I told you I love them on me? On my body, my neck?"

Genji moans, "Yes." He moves to pepper kisses on your jaw, but you pull away and bite down on his neck instead, forcing a deep groan out of his throat.

"Your neck," you worry at the scarred skin with your teeth, soothe the sting with your tongue, "perfect for marking, for showing who you belong to. I've always wanted to give you a collar made of hickies, let the world see how much you love my mouth."

The very idea makes the ninja twitch in his codpiece. He begs you, quietly, "Please? Please mark my neck!" A laugh escapes you and you suck hard at the same spot, making him moan filthily in your ear and thrust his hips against yours.

"Mmm, not today," you tease him, moving to curl a hand over the mark while looking into his heavy lidded eyes. He pouts, but is soon distracted by your other hand smoothing over his broad shoulders. "These shoulders, so wide and strong. I love it when you fling my legs over them to eat my pussy. Every chance I get, I stare at them, touch them." Your lips ghost over the flesh and metal, embracing him as you do so. Kisses and licks cover them, and Genji can only exhale breathily against you and whimper quietly.

"Your chest. Mmmm your chest," you grin and dip your head to press kisses to his clavicle. "I'm glad you don't wear kyudo-gi like your brother, otherwise I'd have to cut a bitch for looking." The dangerous possessiveness in your voice thrills Genji, who purrs under your ministrations and grows a smug look on his face. Your lips brush his nipple and he jolts, but then it turns into a deep shudder and a swear as you give it kitten-licks, urging the flesh into a stiff peak. His hands fidget on your hips, hips buck against yours, as you suckle at his flesh and whirl your tongue around the bud. In times like this he desperately wishes that he has his other pec back, so you could worship both nipples just like this. But he doesn't, and he's over it, so he just clutches you close to him to enjoy your mouth working its magic.

He's so hard now, just about bursting from his codpiece, and he whines at you to hurry up so you can fuck him already. It causes you to laugh at his impatience, and you tut at him before dropping back onto the sofa. "You asked for it, you greedy boy. Have some patience," you scold him lightly and start to nibble on his abs. You tell him how much you love that he's still so ripped despite having countless augmentations, that he's still as muscled as he was before, if not even more. The rippling of the flesh under your touch reminds you that he's so incredibly aroused that he's almost jumping out of his skin. His hands, which moved to your shoulders as you sank down, rub at you needily, almost like kneading your shoulders, as he fights to stay still.

"Your ass," you moan then, reaching around to grab at his ass which is, miracle of all miracles, still as grab-able as it used to be, as he had told you. You fucking love Angela, you had declared then, and now as you squeeze the half synthetic half flesh bubble of his butt, you give your thanks to her too. "Oh god, your ass is fucking delicious. I'm not usually an ass-girl, but fuck, I love your ass. And I love it that playing with your cute ass turns you on even more," you growl and whip him around so you can sink your teeth into the flesh side.

Genji yelps and shakes under you even more, panting and moaning as you plant bites and kisses on his bubble butt. Pushes into you as you pull back. He reaches down to unlatch his codpiece and throws it away then, unable to stand the pain of restricting his hard on for a second longer. It springs out before him, hard, leaking and needy, and he leans forward as your head disappears between his legs.

Your voice is slightly muffled, but he can still make out your words clear as day, "This pretty asshole, all mine to play with. Your cock, all mine to toy with." Your hand reaches between his thighs to grab his cock, and it's all Genji can do not to cry out and fuck into your hand. His thighs twitch sporadically, and you grin as you start to pump his twitching shaft roughly. "Your beautiful cock, so big and thick, perfect for fucking me. I love how you feel in my mouth, my pussy."

Genji groans at your words, blushes at the praise, and lets out a breathless whine in response. He wants to thank you, to say something in return, but your fingers are teasing his head and his slit and it's quickly driving any sane thoughts out of his head right quick. Your hand is heavenly, he decides, and widens his stance so he can feel your tongue slide along where his perineum should be. The combination of both sensations makes him buck his hips uncontrollably. It's too much, everything's too much! He's gonna-!

"P-please may I cum?" he chokes out your name, his fingers digging into his thighs to try and hold his orgasm at bay. "Please please please may I cum!"

You grin and shove your head deeper between his legs, now using both hands to pump and twist at his cock, his slick making the slide sound oh so obscene and Genji shakes in place, the ball of warmth in his belly raging out of control.

He can't cum. He can't cum yet. You haven't said so. You haven't-

"Fuck! Oh fuck oh fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck-ohhhhhhh," he can't hold it back and cums hard onto the floor. Doubling over, he grunts and groans and moans as his orgasm is ripped out of him. His legs shake as you continue to assault the sensitive area between his legs and Genji has to whimper at you to stop.

With a final nip that sends him spurting another small bit of cum, you withdraw and pull him down into your lap. The ninja melts into a puddle of cyborg goo against you as he comes down from his high, his pretty cock slowly softening against his bright thigh.

You grin and hug him close, teeth worrying at the curve of his jaw. "Aw, baby, I haven't done your legs yet!"

Oh god, Genji thinks as he drifts in a haze of satisfaction.


	16. Roadhog - Rough Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We doms need to be topped sometimes too, you know?

You lie panting on the bed, slightly cross eyed with pleasure as you eye the soaked toys beside you. Fuck, that took way too long, you wipe your forehead and bundle the dildos into a towel to clean later. Your big boy deserves a reward after having such a shitty week, and what better way than actual fucking? He doesn't usually get to indulge in vaginal sex because of his size and because you take so long just to stretch enough to take his considerable girth. 

Thank god for Bad Dragon and their stupidly big dildos and strange shapes that open you up better than any standard penis-shaped one. You keep one inside you and recline onto the bed; best to stay loose since he's on his way back. No, you can't hear his footsteps in the hallway. And what do you mean you're not allowed to hack the cameras? 

Anyway, Mako soon appears on your feed and lumbers down the barracks back to your shared room. He's tired, you can tell, and his chain clinks loudly with his even heavier footsteps. Poor boy. At least he can look forward to this.

Soon enough, the door slides open and Mako trudges in, completely glossing over you as he sheds his gear swiftly, dropping them into the corner reserved for his mess. He cracks his neck, his back, and then finally turns to you and is struck stupid, his eyes wide and roving all over your glistening form. 

Those pitch dark eyes devour you, his jaw working as he works his tongue in his mouth. You grin slyly and rock your hips against the bed, the dildo jostling inside you. He's trembling, with excitement or restrained energy you're not too sure, but you beckon him forward with a firm command. 

Mako's movements are jerky, his hands raising unconsciously before he forces them down before he touches you. Good boy, he remembers your rules. 

You cup your breasts and massage them, arching your back seductively, "You may touch me, Mako."

The dams flood open and he pounces on you, his hand trembling as it rubs the base of the giant cock spreading you open. Those mammoth hands rasp over your body gently, reverently, and he leans forward in askance for a kiss. You indulge him, and revel in the helpless groan that escapes him.

"You prepared?" he asks, rough voice turned dark from the arousal clouding his mind.

You purr and press your body against his firm one, "I did. You've had a bad week, baby. I thought this would be a nice reward, especially since you haven't cum for a few days. What do you say, Mako?"

He moans deep in his chest and leans into your touch, "Thank you." 

His cock is hard against your thigh, poking through the layers of cloth and metal and you tell him to strip quickly. In the blink of an eye, he's gloriously naked and oh so very hard, his fat cock weeping already. Finding you bare and wet with a dildo up your pussy in his bed was too much for him, clearly, and you coo at it as you stroke him roughly.

"Did you like finding me like this on your bed, Mako? Ready to take your cock?"

Mako pants loudly, thrusts into your grip, "Nnngh, yes! Let me fuck your pussy, please!"

The need in his voice pleases you, and you let go of his cock to recline back and spread your legs. You slide the dildo out of you easily and set it aside, grinning as his eyes are glued to the stretched lips of your pussy. A hand reaches down and you rub your clit, plunging two fingers in to show how much you've relaxed. Mako growls pleadingly, begging for your taste, and you indulge him, slipping your soaked fingers into his mouth and he licks and sucks at it like his life depended on it.

He grunts his thanks and shuffles between your legs at your word, pulling your hips into his lap as you angle his cock into your pussy. You don't feel like doing any of the work today, you tell him, and watch as his face flushes as he realises what you're saying. He gets to fuck you however he wants today. It makes him almost vibrate with tightly restrained need, and he begs you quietly, "Please put my cock inside you!"

You laugh, reaching to dig your nails into his ass to pull him forward, spearing you onto him swiftly. A scream tears itself from you as he sinks into you roughly, the veiny sides scraping at your walls; but it's a good scream, and Mako knows your noises enough to know that it's not a sign to stop, but to continue. He hears your grunts and snarls to move faster, to fuck you harder, and he complies with glee. 

His hands move from your thighs to the back of your knees, and suddenly you find yourself bent in half with your knees at your ears. He leverages his weight on you carefully, makes sure not to crush you, and then starts to pound into you so hard he bangs against your cervix with every thrust. 

Flesh smacks against wet flesh and you dig your nails into his meaty shoulder and ass as you cry out. "Fuck, you're so big! Oh god I fucking love your cock, Mako. So fucking big and thick and hitting me just right- ah!"

He rumbles, grins wide, and allows you to move his hand to your shoulder so he can hold you to fuck you rougher. His hand cups the curve of your shoulder naturally, but you shake your head and wrap it around your throat instead. "No, boy," you leer at him, enjoying the foreign feel of his hand completely encompassing your neck. "This is your treat today."

Mako moans filthily and breathes his thanks as he squeezes carefully, constricting enough to cause difficulty breathing but not hurting you. It's heady, the combination of his rough fucking and the strength around your neck, and you gasp at the pleasure of it all. You claw at him, grin stuck onto your face, and do your best to draw blood to no avail. Mako doesn't care, doesn't even react to the pain as he tucks his knees under you and brushes against your sweet spot so hard that you choke out a scream in approval. 

Cries of praise and swears gurgle out through his grip on you, each word hiccuping in time to his hard thrusts against your hips. 

Mako's immense strength pushes you up on the bed with every stroke, until you're stuck between a wall and a hard place. Not like you can move anyway, even when he loosens his grip completely to give you a reprieve. It's insane how much you're stretching over his considerable girth, which is somehow bigger than the dildo you shoved up in there earlier, and your legs dangle uselessly over his shoulders as he pounds you hard. 

You cum with a cry and Mako growls at the feel of you clenching hard on his cock. "F-fuck!" you bite out, a hand whipping up to dig into the thick column of his neck. "Put me- ah! Put me on my front, Mako, fuck me till I'm unconscious and dripping with your cum!"

"Yesss," he moans and does as you say, flipping you so your face is buried into the mattress. By now your pussy is sore, your ass is bruised, and the backs of your thighs are red from his thrusts. Still, Mako doesn't slow down and as your eyes slowly slide shut, you turn your head to look at him as best you can. 

His face is flushed with exertion, his hair mussed and lips open to let drool trail from the corner of his mouth. His body is intoxicating in its movement as he fucks you like it's the last thing he'll ever do, and when you bear down hard on his cock to massage it within you, he breaks. 

He holds back desperately as he begs for permission in that voice that no one but you will ever hear. You laugh breathlessly and nod, "Cum for me."

Mako howls out your name and rams into you so hard that your jaw clicks hard and sweet pain radiates from your abused cervix. Cum, so warm and so heavenly, floods your insides and you moan at the feeling. Mako unleashes a veritable river of cum that seeps out from the tight seal of your pussy around his cock, and it sloshes out as he withdraws from you tenderly.

For once you're far more exhausted than he, and you lie there dazed and insensible as he putters around and cleans you up. "Thank you," he whispers against your skin as he kisses your neck and face gently. "Thank you." You don't think he's just talking about the mind blowing sex, but you smile anyway and hug him close.


	17. Hanzo - Mine

You find him leaning against the railing of a balcony overlooking the base, hip jutted out and his biceps flexing as he shifts in place. He's preoccupied with staring at something you can't see, so you creep closer silently, putting that spec ops training to work.

He doesn't detect you, as far as you can tell anyway, and he takes a deep breath and then a content sigh. Seems like he's had a good day, you think with a smile. Time to make it even better.

You reach out with a grin and move to slap his shoulder just to see him jump out of his skin. It doesn't work though, because in the blink of an eye Hanzo has spun around and seized you into his arms. What?! You sputter and pout, wriggling in his arms as you laugh. How did he detect you?

"Your scent, my love," Hanzo chuckles and dips his head to bury his nose into your temple. "You always smell of that one flower you adore." Ah, so that was what he was doing when he took that breath. Darn it, plan foiled.

You groan and collapse playfully into his arms, moaning theatrically, "I would have gotten away with it too! If it weren't for that pesky perfume." You stop, brows scrunched, "Which actually reminds me that I don't wear perfume. Huh."

Hanzo laughs quietly, the sound making your heart soar, and he gathers you to his chest. That smile on his face makes him look years younger, eases the stress lines in his brow and corners of his mouth, and you relax into his hold. Your arms snake around his neck and you pull him to you, planting your lips on his forehead, "God, you're too cute."

"I am _not_ cute," he protests gently and tries to pull away to no avail. "I am a man."

You pepper kisses on his forehead and face, laughing between each one, "Yeah yeah, you manly man. But guess what?"

He starts as you cease your kisses, brow furrowed, "What?"

A soft look enters your eyes and you press your lips to the centre of his forehead, "You're mine." Then it turns sharp and hungry and you back him into the railing, caging him in with your hands on the railing on either side of him. Your lips lock with his in a savage kiss, your teeth and tongue plundering his mouth and driving him back with force.

Hanzo whimpers into your mouth and clutches you close, angles his head to the side to allow you to deepen the kiss. His tongue dances with yours, surrenders as you overwhelm him. If it weren't for the railing, you think he would melt right into the floor.

You pull back abruptly, lick your lips at his kiss-bitten lips, flushed face and bleary eyes, and growl, "Mine."

Kiss. "Mine."

Nip. "Mine."

" **Mine** ," you rumble and devour his mouth again, merciless as you suckle and bite and lick at every inch of his silken flesh. Moans reverberate through both your mouths, though from whom you can't truly tell. He's hard against your belly, rutting gently with every stroke of your tongue. Panting breaths beat down on your cheek and his hands scratch at your back desperately.

When you finally pull away from him, the both of you are breathing heavily and flushed, bodies rubbing against each other needily. You grin, then peck his cheek gently in contrast to your previous kisses, and whisper in his ear, "Let's continue this elsewhere."

Hanzo can't nod fast enough and you don't think you've ever seen him move that quickly.


	18. Roadhog - Dominance (part 2)

You're in Angela's office, the blonde doctor fussing over your sprained wrist.

"Where on earth did you get this from?" she tuts at you, spraying something on your wrist and binding it tightly. "There, that should do it for now. Go back and wear a wrist guard, keep putting pressure and the swelling should go down. Tell your Mako to ice it for you too, hm?"

You flinch at the mention of his name. Angela's not oblivious, she notices, and closes the door with a motion of her hand before she leans in. "What's wrong, dear?"

It's hard to swallow the lump in your throat, but you tell her everything that Mako said to you. You can't stop the tears this time, but you wipe away the tears with a tissue that she offers.

Angela's face is stormy by the time you finish. She paces angrily, her arms crossed and her eyes looking as though gears are turning in her head. Suddenly, she stops, turns and spins to look at you with angry eyes, "I know where he got that idea."

Your mouth gapes open, "What?"

"Rutledge and Fawkes don't have the best reputation around here, you are aware, yes?"

You nod.

"I've heard from Lucio that some of our recruits aren't happy that they're here. They haven't done anything about their unhappiness so far, but perhaps..." Angela looks sad as she gently places her hand over your injured one. "Perhaps they were the ones who spoke of it to Rutledge. You and I both know that he's no one's bitch, not even yours."

A sigh of frustration escapes you and you massage the bridge of your nose. Yes, you know full well Mako's not the kind of man to easily bow to anyone, not the kind of man to listen to anyone but himself. So what made him get that stupid idea in his head? There has to be something more than mere rumours to make him act like that. You repeat your thoughts to Angela, who nods at every question.

"None of the field team doubts your love for each other. Rutledge being someone's bitch is the furthest thing from their mind, let me reassure you."

You smile weakly at Angela's words, then shake your head as you sigh tiredly. "Then that doubt must have come from him. I...Thanks for the first aid, Angela," you stand up abruptly, suddenly not wanting to air your self-doubt even to a trusted friend. "I'll go rest now."

She looks at you with a sympathetic smile and gets up to show you to the door. "Alright. Come find me if you need a listening ear, dear." At your nod, she pipes up hesitantly just before you exit her office. "And dear? If...Don't waste away worrying about this. If you need to, you know what to do."

You'll know what to do...why does that make your heart clench in pain? You smile at her nonetheless, and leave with a quiet thanks.

As you make the slow trip back to your old quarters, you can't help but drag your feet a little as you're drawn deep into your thoughts.

Mako's not the kind of man to take the words of others seriously. He's old enough not to care; and he's old enough to know that you're old enough not to bother toying with him. It's not like you've been forcing him to be with you against his will. It's not like he does things for you out of a lack of choice. It's not like he thinks you don't care about him. What you both have isn't a lie, it's not based on a lie. He cares for you!

You stop in front of your door, and let your head fall into your hands as tears stream down your cheeks. Does he?

Mako Rutledge. Monster. One-man apocalypse.

They are titles to be worn with pride, and he has always reveled in them. Now though...now he’s finding them to be a curse.

He sits on his bed, elbows braced on his thighs as he holds a thick strip of dark leather in his hands. It’s a small thing, fragile in his calloused mammoth paws, but oh so priceless. The leather is slightly worn and buttery soft, the clasp having been replaced several times by the slightly frayed ends that’s been stitched over and over again.

His hands take the two ends and he raises them to wrap it around his thick neck, but stops when a thickness swells his throat shut, forcing him to drop his arms. Dark eyes squeeze shut as he stubbornly stems tears. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel right to be the one to put on the collar. But he has to, wants to, because he wants to feel grounded. To regain his sanity. So with shaking hands he buckles it shut through the worn hole and smooths it against his rough skin.

Instantly, he sighs in relief and sags in place. The comforting pressure and weight of it centers him, calms his whirling thoughts and emotions, and suddenly he breaks down. He digs his nails into his palms, curls into himself as rough sobs break through the seal of his mouth. The fingers of one hand hooks into the leather and pulls as tight as he dares, tightening the leather around his neck like an ineffective noose. He doesn’t deserve to think, doesn’t deserve anything but suffering.

He hurt you.

That’s all that’s consuming his mind. He hears the unnatural crack of your wrist, the feeling of almost crushing your bones in his hulkish grip, and feels his gut heave.

He hurt you.

The one person he swore to protect and love above all. The only one who has ever earned his devotion. The only one who has ever deserved all of him.

And he tossed it away just because of some stupid rumours and his stupid fucking insecurities.

He hurt you because he’s a fucking weakling.

The collar around his neck is like a weight now. A reminder of his failure as a lover. It’s a symbol that he belongs to you and you to him, but it’s burning him because he betrayed that symbol. Mako roars, tears it from his throat with two hands in one easy movement, and regrets it immediately.

The tattered leather pieces flutter to the bed and his lap, and his eyes are wide as he watches them fall. The metal bits of the buckle pings off a wall and disappears, and the simple engraved disk on the front melds into the folds of his trousers. He drops the leather beside him and gets up to scramble for that small disk, almost crying when he finds it. It’s a tiny thing, maybe the size of his fingernail, but he finds his vision hazy with unshed tears as he reads your name on one side, and a single word on the other.

Hers. 

Mako hasn’t cried in an age, but he cries now. Cries big fat tears as he clutches the remnants of the collar to his chest and falls onto the bed on his side. The mattress is too big, too cold, and the collar is only so much comfort.

He drags your pillow to him, buries his face in it and take a big inhale of your lingering scent. Clean shampoo, your favourite body soap, and the musk that is inherently you. Mako chokes on a sob and curls his massive body around it, wishing it were you, wishing you were there to console him and tell him you could stitch the collar back together with no problem; stitch him back together.

The junker mournfully whispers your name into the pillow and cries himself into a tired stupor. He’s a fucking idiot.


	19. Reaper - Coming Home

Reaper's exahusted, you can tell. Mist wafts off his body with every other step, his form held together only by sheer strength of will. His footsteps are heavier than usual, the steel toed boots echoing in the silence of your room. He looks at you with love in his eyes nevertheless, and crosses the threshold to kneel and kiss the centre of your chest in greeting.

You love that he does this no matter how energetic or tired he is. It's almost like a tradition with the two of you. You rest your hand against his head and unmask him, pulling down his hood gently to kiss him on the lips lovingly. It's like shedding the layer that is Talon's Reaper to reveal the broken Gabriel Reyes, down but not out.

The man sighs in relief against your lips and rises after a few more minutes of locking lips with you. He keeps his head bowed, allows you to fuss over him and drag him to the shower. You frown in concern - usually he doesn't accept your affection so passively.

You question him, and he slumps over as he tells you of his day's workload. It's backbreaking work, you know, and you pamper him. Strip him, load him into the shower, and wash his hair and back to give him a semblance of normalcy. You know he doesn't need to bathe to be clean - being undead and made of mist seemed to remove all odours from his body - but he likes the feeling. It makes him feel human, he says.

It's something you take into consideration, and you make sure you kiss every inch of his body without sexual intent, rather trying to make him feel loved and wanted. He appreciates it, you can tell, because he doesn't try to initiate anything himself.

Once he's clean, you wrap your arms around him and lean into his chest, allowing him to slump over onto you as he trembles from stress and exhaustion. You whisper sweet nothings and let him relax.

You're always there for him, you murmur, always there to welcome him home.

Gabriel smiles and holds you close. Yeah...you're his home.


	20. Reinhardt - Cuddles

Reinhardt sits quietly by the window in his room, the nest on the floor perfect for him to recline against as he finally finishes polishing his armour. The gunmetal grey gleams in the afternoon sun, and he smiles as he carefully piles it away. Just in time, too, as you saunter through the open door and nudge his arms aside to crawl into his lap.

He takes a pillow from behind him and tucks it against the back of your thighs so you aren't bothered by his ankles as you sit. You smile in appreciation, pecking his lips, as you make yourself comfortable. A book dangles from your hands as your hand braces on his shoulder for balance.

Reinhardt looks at the book in curiosity, noticing the title. Ah, your favourite book.

He adjusts himself, wrapping his arms around you to shelter you within his bulk. With your legs over one thigh and your back braced against his opposite arm, you're content, and you purr with satisfaction as you lean against his barrel chest.

You hold out the book to him, thumb tucked into a section, and tell him to hold it for you. It's a thick book, and he's not surprised you asked him to help. Craning your neck will turn painful after a while if you had to stare down into your lap.

His hand encompasses almost the entirety of the hardback book, and he cradles it easily. Your own slips onto the back of his, for support, for comfort, he doesn't quite care save for the fact that you're touching him. The other turns the pages as you read.

Reinhardt sighs happily and rests back against the pillows, enjoying your sweet weight in his lap and your warmth in his arms. He's not doing anything but dozing with you around, but he won't trade this for anything else in the world.


	21. Roadhog - Differences

You hold his hand up to yours, gigging when he curls his fingers over yours. His hands are calloused, rough, his nails painted a matte black that stands out against his scarred skin. They're strong, strong enough to hold you up when you order him to fuck you against the wall. Strong enough to shift your furniture when you decided he would move in with you. Strong enough to protect you when you need him to.

You tell him so, and you see his light coloured brows raise as he pulls you into his chest.

He tells you in turn that your hands are softer in comparison, gentler and yet all the more lethal. They can stop him with one gesture, order him with a flick, wipe his mind with a twist. They command the respect of a spec ops team, and signal the life or death of others. You hold his heart, his soul, in those soft hands, and with one squeeze you can unmake him. That, he says, is stronger than all the force he can generate with his immense body.

You grin and fondle the cock in your other hand. He groans. That's exactly what he means.

With a laugh, you let go and push yourself away, only to clamber over him and straddle his head.

"Shut up and put that hot mouth to good use."

Mako complies with glee.


	22. Genji - Sparring Techniques

It's an argument that has been beaten to death between the two of you.

"Look, jodan-kamae is an annoying stance ok. Will you stop doing that? I know that you know chudan," you growl, jabbing your shinai at his throat only for him to swipe at you with his own. You dodge it, barely, and barrel into him to force his hands close to his chest.

"But what's the fun in that? You want to get better, don't you?" he teases you, both the tips of your blades pressing against your helms as the two of you back away.

You groan and smack his head several times in a row, "I'm going for a fucking kendo competition, asshole! No one uses goddamn jodan!"

The ninja laughs and bounces back to get out of your range, his sword settling into a more neutral stance that you're familiar with. "Alright, alright," he grins so brightly that you can see it through both your grills. "Spoilsport."

You narrow your eyes and disarm him with a flick of your wrist, sending it flying. He looks at you, then at the fallen shinai that's rolling away, then at you again with wide eyes.

Your glare is literally throwing daggers at him and you tackle him to the ground, pinning him down at the neck with the length of your shinai. "Spoilsport, eh?" you growl with a leer and Genji starts to sweat.

Oh shit.


	23. Jack Morrison - Hard to Get

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written as a fill for anon request for horny Jack Morrison begging and whining. No idea what's the Overwatch equivalent for thumbdrives so lemme just fib that bit.

Jack's about ready to lose his mind. He could have sworn that you were the one who slipped that data drive onto his desk earlier that day, but now as he confronts you, he's not so sure anymore. You blink at him as he waves the small device before you face, your arms crossed even as he looms over you.

"Were you the one who left this on my desk?" he's gritting his teeth, face red with rage and shame in equal measure. He can't imagine the disaster that would ensure if someone else had discovered what was on it.

You furrow your brow and shift your weight onto a hip, "It's an data drive, sir. It might have been me, but it really depends what's on it."

Jack rubs the bridge of his nose and backs away to rest his rump against the desk. "It's," he begins, his face flushing as he remembers the contents, "Porn. There was porn on it." Just saying it brings back shameful memories of his hand slipping into his underwear; of him pleasing himself to the time of the woman's moans; of him wishing it were you moaning in his ear instead of the pornstar.

He pushes aside the stirring arousal pooling deep in his gut and instead steels himself to look into your amused orbs.

"Porn?" you grin and look behind you.

Jack blinks, shifts to peer over your shoulder only to see nothing but the shut door behind you. He blanches instead, jerking back when he suddenly finds you much closer than he was before. "W-wha? Agent, this is inappropriate-!" He's stuttering, flushed and with wide eyes. Your close proximity does things to him - making his heart race, his nose flares as he takes in your unique perfume, and his cock twitches as your presence surrounds him. His hands whip up instinctively, hanging by his shoulders - to ward you away or to surrender, he's not too sure.

You advance nonetheless, arms still crossed and an amused smile on your face. "I'm not touching you," you tease, clicking your tongue and stopping a hair's breadth from his open palms. "So...porn. What kind exactly?"

The blond swallows thickly, wanting to loosen the high collar of his uniform but also wanting to keep his hands close to you. He wishes you would lean forward so he can touch you, feel your softness and your warmth. Wishes you would take the choice out of his hands.

"It-I don't-!" he sputters, trying to buy time to calm his racing heart. "T-they were having sex! That's all." The heat building under his collar isn't helping his lack of composure, something entirely alien to him. Fuck, what was it about you that reduces him to a blushing schoolboy?

Maybe it's your seductive eyes, so expressive and so dark, peering deep into his own as you smirk and lean in, teasing his palms with the warmth of your shoulders. "Mmm, doesn't seem like they were just fucking. Otherwise you wouldn't be so flustered," you croon, forgoing his alarmed warning and pressing your body flush against his.

God, you feel amazing. Jack stubbornly blocks a moan from escaping his throat and clenches his teeth tight. So soft, so warm, and so...you. His hands are covering the curve of your shoulders, and it feels like they were meant to be there. Meant to be touching you.

Your hands land gently on his chest and you rise to your toes, rosebud lips brushing against his chiselled jaw. You feel rather than hear the rumbling groan he lets loose and grin. Oh, you've got him now. "Was it because you liked what you saw?" you breathe against his flesh, tracing your lips over the cut of his jaw and up to his ear where you licked the lobe teasingly.

Jack finds himself clutching you close unconsciously, his breathing hitching as his hands slowly slip to your upper arms. His mind is filled with your voice, husky, sultry, and sure to invade his lewdest dreams in the future. He struggles to unstick his tongue from the top of his mouth, mind scrambled by your expert tongue tracing his ear. Fuck, he didn't even know his ear was that sensitive.

A chuckle vibrates against his skin and he has to choke back a moan. "Did you like the way she was touching him?" Your hand leaves his chest and trails down to his abs, fingers slipping under the thick top to dip and outline the lines of his muscles over his thin t-shirt. "The way she looked?" Your other hand adroitly undoes the buttons to the top of his uniform, revealing the pale flesh of his neck down to his clavicles. "The way she sounded?" You jerk him down and press your lips to his ear, moaning softly into it, sighing his name lustfully.

Jack whimpers, his throat unable to constrict any further, and feels his cock harden painfully in his pants. He jerks his hips against yours, his eyes wide with shock and want and need as you continue to moan and mewl into his ear.

With his cock digging into your belly, you change your target to his lips, licking at the surprisingly soft flesh with kitten licks. The commander moans a swear, his hands tightening, and lets his eyes slide shut as he leans forward to capture your mouth with his.

You stop him with a non-threatening hand against his neck, and he eyes you confusedly. Why did you stop him?

"Or did you like the way she took control?" you whisper and seize his lips with your own, overpowering him with one simple move. Your tongue slips between his lips and battles with his own, slipping and sliding and pooling so much saliva between the two of you that it slips down his lips and over his chin. He pants into your open mouth, tries to take back control, but that hand on his neck doesn't give him a single inch. You draw back, letting a string of drool connect the two of you, and smirk, "Did you like the way she owned his mouth, his hands...his cock?"

Your hand drops to his crotch and massages his rock hard shaft over the material, feeling its impressive girth even through the multiple layers. Jack's breath stutters and he doubles over as you tease the head, his head dropping to your temple as you begin to work him. Your other hand, originally against his neck, shoves his shirt up to his collar.

"Move your head back," you order, and Jack complies automatically, not registering that he did until you stuff the fabric of his shirt into his slack mouth. "Mmm, that's gorgeous. Now keep your shirt up."

With his chest bare, you get to work, kissing and sucking at his flesh like candy. The pale flesh quickly flushes with a huge blush, turning redder wherever you suck hard and leave a hickey. You start at the bottom of his neck, then to his collarbones, the centre of his chest, and then to his nipples. His nipples you pay special attention to, nipping the stiff buds and suckling at them like a nib.

Jack swears behind the makeshift gag, his hands dropping to your waist to have something to hold onto. Your hand at his cock is not idle as you worship his chest, and it slips the tongue of his belt from the buckle so swiftly that he doesn't register its absence until he hears the metal clinking at his feet. He whips his head down and his eyes bulge as you jerk down his boxers to let his cock spring forth.

"My my, Commander," you purr against his spit-slicked nipple, tweaking the other one. "What a pretty cock you have." You laugh at the desperate look on his handsome face, hand curling around his throbbing cock. "All the better to play with."

He throws his head back as you stroke him in earnest, squeezing and twisting all the thoughts out of his head until all he can think about is how good you feel around his cock, on his nipples, and in his head. The fabric in his mouth is becoming damp from the saliva pooling in his mouth and he chews on it, muffling a whine when you bite down on his nipple and pull hard.

You let go after a heartbeat, laving the skin and easing the ache with your silken mouth. As you switch your attention to his abandoned nipple, your hand continues to twist at his cock, palm rubbing over the head and fingers slipping into the slit. Jack trembles with the plethora of sensations, unable to decide whether to focus on your lips on his chest, your fingers pinching his nipple, or the hand on his cock.

He decides not to care, however, when you suddenly drop to your knees to bring yourself eye level with his cock. Vulnerability and a hint of humiliation hits him then, with you fully clothed and him with his shirt bundled over his collar and his pants around his ankles. It's a power shift he doesn't expect, but the wave of pleasure that he finds in it is even more unexpected.

Your mouth hovering over his aching cock diverts his attention quickly, and he mutters pleas behind his shirt, hands moving to the edge of the desk to find balance.

Please put your mouth on me, he wants to plead. Use your tongue and suck until you pull all the cum out of me.

You tease him however, and breathe warmly, the breeze making his cock jump in your grasp. "Do you like this, Commander?" fuck he feels so dirty when you call him by his title like that. "Do you like me on my knees, wanting to suck your cock?"

Jack nods quickly, his cock bobbing with the action, and you laugh and press your lips against the head. He sighs in relief and unfulfilled pleasure. Bucks his hips to try and force his cock into your mouth.

To his dismay, you pull away again to lock eyes with him. "You better enjoy this, Commander. This will be the only time you'll ever get this treat."

What? He opens his mouth to try and ask you what you meant, but your mouth engulfs his cock and swallows it down, and he loses his train of thought, biting hard on the sodden fabric of his shirt. "Oh please-!"

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck. Your tongue tickles the underside of his cock as your cheeks hollow with your sucking, making him jump on your tongue. It throbs, twitches, and you chase that with a single-mindedness he's always admired in you. That passion turns to his undoing, because you squeeze and massage his tender balls in one hand and score deep red lines into his tight ass with the other. It makes him groan and buck into your mouth, driving himself deeper into you.

You allow it this once and flutter your eyes up to gaze into his own dazed ones, locking as you take him down all the way. With your nose buried in his sparse pubic hair and your throat convulsing around his cock, Jack loses his mind and doubles over in a wave of sharp pleasure.

Oh goooood your mouth is heavenly. So tight, so wet, so responsive! It's better than any fantasy he's ever had of you, and he doesn't know how he's going back to jerking himself off after this. You suck and bob your head, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat with every other thrust.

His balls aren't forgotten, and you play with the skin and knead the flesh like you do his ass, flicking his perineum too. Jack grunts and gasps, pants through the impromptu gag and starts to rut into your eager mouth to chase his pleasure.

The fire builds in his belly, descends to his crotch and flares at the base of his cock. He gasps, stiffens, and his movements turn rough as he hears you start to gag on him. The filthy and slick sounds drives him over the edge and he starts to cum without warning.

"Yes! Yesyesyesyesyesye-"

NO! What-! What are you doing?!

You pull your head away from his cock and stand up, wiping your mouth as you take a few steps back. Jack whimpers in frustration and watches miserably as his cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, his orgasm ruined by the lack of stimulation as he cums. His shaft jerks but his pleasure takes a sudden downturn and he's left throbbing with denied pleasure.

"Wha-why?" he croaks, lets the bottom of his shirt fall from his mouth.

You chuckle deep in your throat and clean your chin of your combined saliva, "What? I didn't say anything about sucking you off until you cum, Commander."

He growls, snatches you close, his mouth opening as he attempts to threaten you but you simply silence him with a finger on his lips. "Beg me, and I might consider it."

Something lodges in his throat and Jack's eyes blow wide open. Could he...

He drops his head to your neck and starts kissing you desperately, "Please! Please let me cum!"

You hum and dig your nails into his back. "Go on."

Damn it. "Please put your mouth back on my cock. It felt so good, so fucking good," he pants against your skin, feeling your hand slowly wander back to his crotch. Yes! Yes it's working!

"Just my mouth, Commander?" you coo into his ear, your fingers tracing circles over the base of his cock.

He groans, imagining you offering your pussy, "N-no. Your hands too. And-" He blushes bright red as he stutters out, "Your-Your pussy too. Oh fuck the very thought of your pussy hugging my cock as I fuck you and-"

Your hand snaps up from his crotch to his neck and you hiss into his ear, "Don't get me wrong, Commander, I want to jump into bed with you just as much as you do. But let's get one thing straight." You drop both hands and masterfully stroke and twist and rub his cock until he rises to that precipice again at a dizzying pace, leaving him to gasp and sob against your neck as you drive all coherent thought from his mind except for the need to cum.

"Oh please! Please please don't stop! Oh fuck please don't stop! Let me cum, for the love god!" He's keening so loud that he's glad his office has some level of sound proofing, his hips shaking as he fucks into your grip uncontrollably.

Your cackle against his ear makes him moan your name, and you close your palm over the head and twist your wrist cruelly. "Mmmm I like this. So let's get one thing straight. I get to fuck you. You don't get to fuck me." You moan into his ear and Jack is shaking you with the force of his thrusts against your hand.

"Yesss!" he's desperate to say anything just so you won't stop. Desperate for you to be unaware that deep down, he wants it too. "Yess fuck me! Fuckmefuckmefuckmeeeeeeee!"

His voice tapers to a high pitch as you finally let him cum, catching the pearly liquid in your hand as you keep stroking him through his orgasm. He bows into you, chin hooking over your shoulder as he doubles over from the sheer blinding pleasure of his intense climax. His body shakes, trembles, as you slowly lean him against the desk and peel yourself from him.

You wipe your hand on the tissues you snatch from the box sitting on his desk, tossing them into the bin by his chair. While you clean up, he's still leaning against his desk heavily, panting from the force of mind-wiping orgasm. You tiptoe over to him, tilt his chin up, and place a deep, meaningful kiss on his lips before you whisper, "You want more of that, big boy? Come see me tomorrow night."

Jack swallows, gathers enough thought to rasp out, "Not tonight?"

An evil sparkle lights up your eyes, and you grin, "No. I want your balls nice and full when I play with you tomorrow."

The soldier gulps, then smiles as you help him dress himself again. And as you turn on your heel and saunter out, he makes a note to destroy the data drive at the first opportunity. He doesn't think he'll need it anymore.


	24. Soldier 76 - Keep Your Head Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Done for cantspellreyeswithoutyeees on tumblr based on a request for grumpy S76 being topped. Enjoy!

"Sniper! Keep your head down!" Soldier 76 bellows over the comms just after a bullet whizzes by your ear.

With a swear, you dive into cover and push past the panic to check your magazine. "No shit, sherlock," you grumble back and try to pinpoint where exactly the shot came from.

"What was that?!" he whips his head over just after he fires a helix rocket, revealing the sniper's location.

The grumble turns into a grimace and you shout, "No. Shit. Sherlock! Now shut up and cover my pretty ass. I'm gonna take that bitch's head off."

As you pop your stealth kit and climb to the perch, you hear the old man grunt behind you, "Who the hell is Sherlock anyway."

The sniper is agile and alert, and you only manage to knock the rifle out of her arms and cripple her left hand before she's fleeing across the rooftops. You give chase, your augmented body easily keeping up with her until blue rockets hit the ground between you and her. She stumbles from the near miss but manages to grapple to safety. You, on the other hand, aren't so lucky. The tiles crumble under your foot and you swear as the ground drops from under you. Only training and your equipment saves you, as you activate the shock absorbers in your suit and body and manage to land on your feet several metres below, rolling forwards several times to disperse the immense force.

When you stop, you end up on your back with your legs flung over a barricade, winded and panting hard. The reason for your brush with death approaches you with his rifle at the ready.

"You didn't catch her," is all he says, and then all you can see is red.

You roll to your feet with some difficulty and jab your finger into his chest, ignoring the stars flickering behind your eyes from the sudden movement. "How fucking dare you?! You shot those goddamn rockets at us and it let her get away! I almost died because of your stupid ass!"

The white haired soldier harrumphed, "Maybe if you took her down at her perch, we wouldn't have this problem."

Fuck this is making you so pissed. "Yeah yeah blame the CQC guy because she couldn't take down a goddamn sniper," you throw your hands in the air and shove him out of your way, stomping angrily in the direction of the extraction point so you don't have to see his stupid red visor.

You can hear him stomp behind you, his body trailing only two steps behind yours. Along the way, Athena pipes up and tells you that the Orca picking the two of you up would be late, having been slightly damaged after dealing with some AA guns at a previous checkpoint. You groan but acknowledge her, slipping into an alleyway to wait. Soldier follows behind you, grumbling as much as you are about the situation.

After a few more minutes of him complaining that 'in his day, the transport would be here already', you snap and snatch his collar, throwing him to the ground.

"Will you just shut up about that!" you hiss and clench your fist in his air as you pin his chest and shoulders with your weight. "'In my day' this and 'in my day' that - no one gives a shit!"

He growls underneath you and shifts, ready to throw you off but you stomp on his forearm painfully, snarling at him.

" _In my day_ ," he emphasises with a sneer in his voice, "agents aren't so impetuous as to attack a superior officer."

" _'In my day'_ ," you mock him with a bad impersonation of his voice, "assholes like you don't complain like fucking babies."

The soldier rumbles and appears to glower up at you, "Oh yeah? What're you going to do about that? Make me?"

Oh it's on. You grin at him and anchor both hands into his strangely soft white hair and plop yourself onto his face roughly. He grunts under your weight, but you don't care. If he's lasted this long on the battlefield, another minor concussion won't kill him.

With your crotch directly on his mask, you leer down at him, "Too bad you have the mask in the way. This would shut you up if it weren't."

Soldier 76's eyes widen under his mask at the view of you perched atop him like a triumphant predator. He's pinned for certain; you're no feather, and your thighs are tight enough against his ears to threaten squeezing him if he tried to push you off. But for some reason...his hands just raise to curl around your ankles. Not squeezing, not gripping; just holding. He doesn't know what this heat building in his chest is, but he's not sure that it's anger.

"Agent, get off-" he starts, a strange weakness in his voice, but you just wriggle your hips and close your thighs tighter around his ears. His breath catches in his throat, his pants start to get tighter, and his hands start shifting on your ankles. He-What's going on! Thoughts run rampant in his head and his eyes are locked onto yours and that victorious smile on your face as the seconds drag on.

You purr deep in your chest and lean over him, "What? Nothing to say now?"

It's an innocuous phrase covered in velvet and daggers and Soldier can't help the tremble in his limbs at the sudden fever brewing in his chest and his crotch. He wants...he wants to...

What _does_ he want?

He's confused, disoriented by your sweet weight on him and the feeling that the world has shrunk to just you and him. His hands quiver and his legs fidget, trying to alleviate the uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Fuck, he's hard. So very very hard.

In the end, Soldier gulps quietly and releases one ankle, his hand snaking up behind your rear to squeeze between it and his chin. You gasp at the abrupt action, raising onto your knees reflexively and feeling him release something under you. You're silent, watching like a hawk. Is he going to throw you off?

No. All he does is remove his mask ever so slowly, pulling it down and off his face to reveal the scarred features of an older, handsome, blue eyed man. His clear eyes search yours, his lightly chapped lips quirk, part, and then you quickly sit back down before his gravelly voice pisses you off again. You're not quite sure his strangely beautiful countenance would offset the irritation you feel at the sound of his voice.

"Don't," you hiss, seeing his eyelids flutter and his mouth remain parted under your clothed hips. "Don't ruin this."

Soldier snorts softly under you. Nope, he doesn't think a thing would ruin this for him right now. He deposits his mask at his belt, reaches to adjust the hard on in his trousers.

You notice his movement and look back, raising a brow at the incredible bulge in his pants. Man, this guy is packing! You push aside the sudden surge of lust you feel in your belly and look back down at him, smirking tauntingly, "What, you're getting hard just from this? Dirty old man."

Soldier moans beneath you and...kisses your covered slit?! You jerk with surprise and no small amount of arousal. Did he just?

The old soldier notices your flinch, you're sure, as his bright eyes curl up into a sly smile and he does it again, this time with tongue. You breathe a soft sigh and rock your hips against him, enjoying the feeling of his mouth under you and the seam of your suit rubbing against your damp pussy. As you move, a soft sound comes from under you. It's Soldier, moaning at the grinding of your hips against his face, and you grin. He likes this, does he? Well, time to take this to another level, since he's clearly so willing.

You check your watch. Yeah, you have enough time before the new Orca arrives.

Quickly getting up, you undo the buckles and buttons and zips to the bottom half of your field uniform and shove it to your knees. The vigilante watches with wide eyes, glistening with shock and need in equal measure, and he reaches up to help guide you to his waiting mouth. You tuck bits of your trousers under him so it doesn't press against his head as he takes his first lick.

His tongue is soft and slick and wonderful against your sodden lips and you let out a quiet moan at the feeling. He licks long sinuous laps, coy kitten licks, and then closes his lips around your clit and starts to suck hard.

"Oh fuck!" you bite down on your sleeve and bury the other hand into his hair, gripping tightly. Holy shit, his tongue is magic, you think. It's exactly how you like it - focusing on the spots that make you twitch and nibbling ever so gently on what he can reach. You gasp into the thick fabric and roll your hips against him, pressing hard on that sexy mouth of his. He chuckles beneath you, the sound making your breath hitch, and dives deeper.

His hands raise to your thighs and clamps down, holding you to him as he starts to eat you out like a starving man at a buffet. Soft sounds escape him, guttural growls and deep groans that tell you exactly how much he's enjoying this right now. You look back over your shoulder and see that bulge twitching in his pants and pressing against the fabric. What you would give to have that monster inside you.

Mmm, but his tongue and lips are a good enough substitute, you decide, and softly pet his hair as he continues to work you.

"Oh fuck, that's good!" you whisper, your hand dropping to grope at your chest. "God, your tongue is like magic, Soldier. Don't stop, don't fucking stop, you hear me?"

He murmurs something against you, the movement of his lips sending you reeling as you draw closer to your orgasm. A surge of your juices floods his tongue and Soldier groans, breathes in your scent, and sticks his tongue into your pussy to scoop more out of it. Your taste is intoxicating, so thick, musky, and so very very you. He can't get enough of it, he needs more of it! Sucking on your clit, he finds, gets him the best reactions. You arch your back and massage your breast roughly when he does it, and your moans and swears are so much thicker when he nibbles on it. Oh yes. Oh yeesssss this is heaven.

Soldier decides that if he dies right now, between your legs and nose buried in your heavenly cunt, he can die happy.

He's ardent in his quest to devour you, drawing you ever closer to that edge until suddenly you find yourself at the precipice and you hunch over, clenching his hair tight with both hands and riding that mouth like your life depends on it. "Yes! Oh fuck! Keep doing that! Mmmmm so good, so very very gooood!" you cry out as softly as you can as you cum hard.

Your hips stutter, jerking uncontrollably as you chase your bliss. His lips and tongue are busy despite your orgasm, licking up and drinking down your essence until you fall forward. Two strong hands quickly reach up to balance you and you open your eyes - when did you close them? - to see his sharp blue ones gazing concernedly at you. He doesn't speak, doesn't need to when his expressive eyes say everything. Are you ok? Was that too much? Did he do good? Did you...did you enjoy it?

You smile quietly at him, run your fingers through his mussed hair and lean down to whisper to him. "You're still an ass. But an ass with a godly tongue and a big cock that I want to ride."

Soldier lets out an uncharacteristic whimper at your voice, the sound making you sigh in contentment as the noise reignites a fire in your belly.

"But not here," you grin at him, palming his throbbing cock as you get to your feet and dress yourself. He's left lying on the ground, his face wet from the bridge of his nose to the bottom of his chin from your cum. Frustration combined with desire wars on his face and you chuckle, your finger sliding across his damp lips in a tease. "Let's get back to base and finish this, alright? I still have to get back at you for that near miss."

The old soldier grouses at you without any heat behind it and uses a handkerchief to wipe the mess off his stubbly face.

"The hell? You carry a handkerchief around?" you tease him with a cocked brow and he just bares his teeth at you.

"Shut up."


	25. Genji - Poke Your Nose In

This…is heaven. You sigh and squirm back into the pillow fort you created, snuggling up to the soft yellow lamp you tucked beside you. It’s perfect, cozy, and just the thing you need after an exhausting day of field training. Cracking your book open, you flick the radio on and hum to the tune of the gentle notes as you read.

It’s peaceful, tranquil, as you while away your day like this. Well, up until you hear your door slide open. You furrow your brow, recognising the light footsteps of your lover. Well, that and he’s the only other person who has access to your room.

He tiptoes over to you and pokes his head in. Calls your name.

Playfully, you turn your eyes back to your book, reading the same line over and over as you watch his reaction out of your periphery.

The ninja is pouting under his mask, you’re sure, because his countenance turns petulant and he wriggles into your fort obtrusively. Cold metal assaults your warm abode and you grunt, nudging him. Genji ignores your kicking and instead manages to wedge himself between your legs from habit alone. He slips cold fingers under your shirt, making you flinch but you still keep your eyes stubbornly on the book.

Sullenly, Genji drapes his heavy form over you and perches his chin on your book, glaring at you through his visor. You’re unperturbed, however, and merely move so the bottom of the book isn’t digging into your chest. After two or three minutes, the cyborg cracks.

“Look at me,” he whines, wriggling his body so he jostles you.

No response.

He changes tactics, taking his chin off your book and ducking his head down so he can bump your book up with his forehead, tucking his head on your chest to stare balefully at you. Still unaffected, you merely shift your gaze so you can adjust to the height of the book, turning the page.

Genji groans. Kicks his legs and buries his head into your chest. “Pay attention to meeeeee,” the wail is uncharacteristic of him but he does like to play it up sometimes just to amuse you. And he’s definitely amusing you, if the twitch of your lip is any indication. A smirk forms on his lips and an idea hits him. Oh yeah, let’s see if you can concentrate with this.

He shimmies downwards, removes his mask with one easy press of his fingers, and positions himself on his belly between your legs. You’re still glued to your book, your eyes roving across the lines as though reading. He’s not too sure if you’re actually reading or not, but he’s going to stick with his plan nonetheless.

Tugging your shorts down your legs, he throws them over his shoulders and starts to breathe lightly on your covered slit. Ah, a sharp intake of breath. He grins, presses his lips to it. Oh yes, he’s definitely got something here.

You squeeze the pages of the book tight, your own smile forming as you relax into the pillows. Now this will be fun.


	26. Genji - Laser Pointer

"Are you sure you're not a cat?"

Genji pouts at you as you run your fingers through his hair. "Of course not. Do you see any ears or a tail?" He leans into your touch and closes his eyes even as he grumbles.

You roll your eyes and hug his head to your chest as you fall back onto the bed, your lover crawling over you to blanket you entirely. "You wander off whenever you want, come back and beg for affection only when I'm busy, you stare at people until they leave you alone," you rattle off, counting them off your fingers as he sticks his tongue out at you. "Not to mention I've seen you whirl around to try and catch your scarf."

He rears back, "What?! When?"

A pointed look reminds him how you found him a few days ago when he was bored and saw his black scarf fluttering out of the corner of his eye. In his defence, he thought it was a shadow of some sort. At least, that's what he always tries to tell you.

"And don't you deny that you swipe Soldier's coffee mug off the table every chance you get."

Ok he's guilty of that one. Soldier 76 is an ass, even as an older man.

"And that one time you dragged a half dead Talon agent to me and dropped him at my feet saying, 'For you.'."

Hey now, that's so the enemy could be brought in for interrogation!

"Interrogation by someone who isn't Soldier, Ana or Winston who were conveniently a few feet away?"

Fine. He groans and flops onto you, ignoring your huff as the breath is knocked out of you. His arms and legs wind around yours, immobilising you save for one arm. You fidget and struggle, but unfortunately this hunk of flesh and metal is stronger than you twofold, or even more. However...

You have an idea.

Reaching under your pillow, you grab something and hide it in your palm, quietly pressing a button and shining it on your chest just above his head.

The green light startles the ninja, and his eyes dart to the circle on your shirt. A hand whips up and slaps over it painlessly, but he's quickly thwarted when the light darts away. He growls, shifts away, and slaps his hand again over where he sees the light.

Again and again he goes, inching off of you every time you move the laser beam. He ignores your laugh and uses both hands to cup the light on the floor, his legs still on the bed and his ass sticking out.

The floor, the table, the chair, the wall. He doesn't stop, and you don't know if he's doing this to humour you or he genuinely wants to chase the laser, but it's funny as heck.

He gets faster, zipping over in a blur of silver and green and you actually have to struggle to be faster than him. You two play like this for a good while until he skids to a stop by your bed, hand closing around the pointer in your hand.

You giggle sheepishly as he gives you a droll look, his chest rising and falling just a bit faster from the exertion. With a shrug and a wriggle of your brow, you try to pull the pointer out of his hand, "Told you you were a cat. Now, how about you taste mine?"

The sinuous grace of his body made you hot even as you laughed earlier, and now you drag his body over yours as he sends you a hot smirk.

"I wonder if it tastes just like catnip."

You roll your eyes again. "Maybe Genji-nip is more the word."

The ninja laughs and rids you of your bottoms before going to town. yeah, definitely Genji-nip.


	27. McCree - Sitting In Your Lap

“You got a sweet ass, boss,” a slow, flirty drawl catches your attention, making you turn towards the cowboy, “But hell if it wouldn’t be sweeter in my lap.”

You raise a brow and cock your hip, holding your arms akimbo as you stick McCree with a droll look. “You trying to sweet talk me, cowboy?”

He gives you a grin, reclines in his seat. “If the shoe fits, boss.” McCree groans and stretches his arms to reveal the sculpted muscles of his bare chest, trying to entice you to come closer. Squirming and extending his limbs, he flexes the various muscles in his body and puts all of him on show. From the lightly furred, hard planes of his chest to his thick, powerful thighs.

A strong hand trails down his beautiful tanned skin, brushing his nipples and running down the hills and valleys of his abs. He moans softly, his other hand following his thick happy trail down to his crotch where he cups his half hard bare cock.

“Mmm, boss,” he sighs and tilts his head down to give you the most seductive bedroom eyes you have ever seen. His dark orbs are hooded, sultry and filled with want. They beckon you forward, his hands drawing you closer with every move he makes to further his own pleasure. He murmurs your name, the thick twang giving the word a captivating undertone.

Unconsciously, you find yourself taking several steps to stop between his spread legs, knees brushing his balls. McCree grins in victory, his hand ceasing its stroking but you leer and instruct him to keep going.

“If you’re so eager to start,” you breathe, slowly descending so you can perch your butt on one firm thigh. “Then you can keep going until I tell you to stop.”

That grin cracks and dips a little before it turns into a strained laugh, and he resumes his pumping, slow and steady.


	28. Poly!Reaper76 - Cold

Jack’s tired. He’s old, his body is aching, he can’t sleep, and he can’t stop thinking about what happened all those years ago. You sit by him on the window sill, giving him a shoulder to lean on without judgement. You know he misses Gabriel so much, but at this point you’re all too far into the game to give up the ruse now. 

The old soldier sighs, slumps over, and allows you to pull him up as you settle yourself into a loveseat. You lower yourself first, then tug him into your lap where he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Battleworn hands card through his soft white hair, his weight comforting on yours and you close your eyes to push away the feeling that something was missing. A weight behind you, warm and steady, was missing.

“The war goes on,” Jack whispers out in a broken voice and tucks his head into your skin where he can cry without anyone seeing. He can’t break. Not yet. Not while there’s a fight to be won. Not while the empty part of the both of you still waits out there, in the dark, alone. 

Unbeknownst to you, a dark tendril of smoke lingers at the unlatched window, drifting away after a few moments with the night breeze.


	29. Poly!McHanzo - Annoyance

Hanzo’s brow twitches as a deep silky voice follows the lyrics to the song playing on the radio. It wouldn’t have bothered him if it weren’t for the terrible singing. 

“Cease that racket!” he snaps, throwing a glare over at Jesse who’s reclining on the armchair with his legs thrown over one arm. “I know you can actually sing, so sing!”

The cowboy merely purrs at him coyly, “Is that an order, darlin?”

They snip at each other playfully, the Japanese man still trying to calm himself so he can redo the ties on his Storm Bow. Unfortunately, Jesse is all too good at getting under Hanzo’s skin, and the archer finds himself getting rather riled up.

“Boys,” your voice warns from behind them, and they freeze, turning sheepishly to find you at the door in rumpled pajamas and dark circles under your eyes. “If you can’t shut up, leave the dorm and go throw your tantrums elsewhere.”

Jesse pouts as Hanzo looks away in shame, both of them getting up instead to huddle you into the bedroom. They know you’re exhausted from that long mission and they feel terrible. Jesse presses up against you, whispers in your ear, “Lemme make it up to you, boss.”

Hanzo snaps at him instead, “She’s tired, Jesse. Let her sleep.” The archer guides you to bed and curls around you as you settle back in the sheets. He grins triumphantly at the American as you growl at Jesse to join the two of you in bed too.


	30. Poly!RoadRat - Cool Your Heels

Your phone rings beside you on the bedside table and you groan, groggily snatching it to answer the call. “What?” you snarl, hand running through your bedraggled hair. “My boys? What about them?”

The voice on the phone mutters something and suddenly you fall back on the bed and scream frustratedly into your pillow. Fuck. And on your day off too.

A few minutes later, you find yourself outside the brig in your casual clothes, tired as all hell and staring blankly at the current guard on the rotation. Lena Oxton sheepishly smiles at you as she offers you the release forms. “You just need to sign here and here-”

You pick up the pen and sign without looking, “Yeah I know. Been through this too many times to count.”

With the Briton in tow, you head to the cell where your boys are held and see them sitting on the floor, black with soot and free from injury. Before they can even start to explain themselves, you hold a hand up and they shut up immediately.

You change your mind. “I don’t want to hear it,” you groan tiredly, turning on your heel and leaving them in the jail. 

“Wait! Darl! Ain’t you getting us out?!” Jamie yells as he tries to squeeze his head between the bars. Mako merely tugs him back and shushes him.

You ignore them and mutter to Lena, “Let them cool their heels in there. I’m gonna go back and sleep.”


	31. Lucio - Spanking

*Smack* Lucio bows his head and buries it into the cushions, blushing heavily.

*Smack* Heat spreads from his abused flesh and warms his shaking limbs.

*Smack smack smack* Three in quick succession has the Brazilian moaning softly and his cock twitching in your lap.

*Smack* This one is particularly hard; he jumps, gulps, and settles down again at your amused look.

"Is it getting too hard, baby?" you taunt, rubbing the reddened skin with a warm palm.

"N-no, my queen," Lucio whispers, arching his back to offer his ass again. It hurts, yes, but it's never too much for him to take. Heck, the slapping of your palm on his ass makes him feel so much hotter.

You purr at him and scratch his ass until you leave white lines behind. The shock of pain causes him to cry out, to whimper as you dig your nails into the tender flesh. It burns. It burns so bad. But...so good at the same time.

Lucio whimpers and eggs you on, curving his back in a sinuous line to get you to continue your strikes. Again and again your hand falls, until Lucio is moaning insensibly with bliss and your hand starts to ache from the exertion. To take a break, you slide your hand between his thighs to search out his balls, cupping them once you find them. They're warm, heavy, and clenching in your grasp as Lucio breathes heavily from the rush of pleasure.

"P-please?" he doesn't know what he's asking for, but he's pleading nonetheless. Touch me. Hit me. Bruise me. Fuck me. Any and all of the above.

It's breathy and weak - his voice - but you smirk and slap his balls lightly. A yelp escapes him, a quiet sob and a thank you following soon after, and you take the opportunity to rain down harder strikes on his ass, thighs, and his balls.

Now he jerks and writhes with every hit, rutting his cock into your lap mindlessly as he seeks friction with a dazed agape grin on his face.

"Aw fuck," he gasps, "That feels so good."

You smack down a particularly hard one and watch the bright red bloom across his dusky skin. "What do you say, doggy?"

"Th-thank you, my queen," he turns his head to smile a watery smile at you, slick with drool and tears.

That's a good boy, you think, and deliver consequently harder and harder spanks until finally, you use both hands to drum at his glowing red ass.

"Oh fuuuuuck!" he wails, rutting into your thighs and arching into your blows with a glazed look in his eyes. He lets his mouth hang open as he is torn between the pain and the pleasure you're giving him. "Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyouuuuuuu!"

He's screaming by now, his cock rock hard and smearing precum all over your legs as he chases his orgasm. He spreads his legs wide, gives you access to his sensitive balls, and looks back at you with a begging look. "Please! Please let me cum! Please, my queen!"

You pretend to think; tap your lip and hum like you're not sure. Lucio sees it and begs harder, lifts his hips and shakes his ass, "Please? I've been such a good boy!"

"Hmm," you rumble, scoring fresh marks onto his lightly bruised skin. "You have been taking your spanking well." He has a desperate look in his eye, with devotion and love all too clear in his expressive eyes. That's decided then. You could never deny your cute pet. "All right, since you've been such a good boy. Let your queen help you cum, hm?"

Your hand squeezes his balls then, your other lightning quick as it spanks his ass tightly and Lucio lets out a scream as he thrusts into the tight gap of your thighs, shaking from the sheer amount of stimulation he's receiving.

"Aaaahhhh! M-my queen! I'm gonna-!"

Clamping down on his balls, you pull your thighs tight, "Cum for your queen." You lean over and bite on his ass just as his body tightens and locks up, his voice a thin and reedy thing as Lucio finally orgasms. His hips give a tiny jerk, too wound up to slip his cock back and forth between your legs. The man wheezes, then collapses into the cushions bonelessly, uncaring of the slick mess he left behind.

You, too, find that cleaning up comes secondary, and instead you stroke his back gently, your hand already reaching for the aloe gel beside you.


	32. Hanzo - Yours

Hanzo's back meets the wall roughly as you shove him into it, your lips busy with kissing him even as you fumble with the scanner. The archer arches into your body pressing his and moans softly, whacking his ID on the scanner and pulling you into his quarters. It's bare and spartan, with a hint of green tea still lingering in the air, but you ignore it to pin him against the door.

Hands roughly grab the lapels of his kyudo gi and jerk at it, freeing the hem from his hakama and letting it hang open against his sculpted body. All the while, your mouth keeps his busy. You lick his tongue and nibble his lips, dominating the kiss and making him moan as he surrenders to you. His hands clench and relax on your waist, kneading the flesh and pulling you as close as humanly possible.

Hanzo gasps against your lips as your fingers trail over the elegant tattoo on his arm. It ghosts and caresses the painted skin, traces the hills and valleys of his flexing muscles as he squeezes your ass.

You pull your tongue back from his mouth and dig your nails into his arm, whispering, "Mine." You punctuate it by scratching up his arm and down to his pec. "Mine." A nail teases his nipple, bites into it, and Hanzo grunts against your mouth. "Mine." Your mouth meanders from his lips and you make your way to his neck, parting your lips to bite down on the thick column of his neck.

Hanzo yelps and starts to pant, his voice breathy and full of want as he whimpers, "Yours! Yours..."

You bear down harder with your teeth. Hanzo groans and squirms, hands growing painful on your ass until you let go with a purr, "Fuck, Hanzo. That sounds so fucking hot. Again."

Your hands quickly divest him of his gi and hakama, which soon falls around his boots. The archer can barely think as you palm his cock and start to teeth at his neck again. He swears lowly in Japanese, breath stuttering as he hardens in your hand, "Yo-yours."

Even through his underwear, you can feel his incredible heat as he turns to granite under your touch, the wet tip of his head as it weeps for pleasure. His boxers are shed in short order, and his cock springs as it is freed from the fabric. You listen to him sigh in relief, then gasp in pleasure as you close your hand around him and twist your grip around his sensitive head.

He arches his head back, feels the bruises that are sure to form on his skin and the intense wave of bliss radiating from his throbbing cock, and moans. Groans and pleas aplenty flood the air between you and he grips your butt tighter, tugs on the waistband to tell you he wants you bare as well. His legs are kicked apart instead.

You step in closer, pressing your crotch against his balls and his cock up straight along your belly. "Keep those legs open for me," you order quietly and start to work at him roughly.

"Y-yes," comes his weak reply, his voice cracking when you spread his slit apart with a finger and rub hard. His hips buck into your grip, wanting more.

You grin deviously, eyes locking with his glazed, dark ones, and you brace yourself on an elbow beside his head. "Fuck my hand," you croon into his ear. Shuddering, he complies eagerly, his legs almost obscenely wide as he thrusts into you.

Hanzo pants heavily. He can feel the sensitive skin of his balls rubbing against you as he moves, the sudden slickness of your hand as you spit onto his cock, the intense wave of desire and need and oh god fuck him please that streaks through his body as he quickens his strokes. His mouth hangs open to let soft sounds filter through, his pleas leaking out in tandem to his rutting as you whisper to him to chase his pleasure.

"Your pleasure is mine," you moan and he whimpers in response. "Your cock is mine," your hand tightens, twists just how he likes it. "Your body is mine," Hanzo lets out a ragged moan and his hands shift to clutch at your hips and back desperately. "You are mine," you bite at his ear and he yelps sharply, hips juddering suddenly as his body tries to double over.

"Please! Please let me cum!" he gasps in Japanese. Clutches at you. Wriggles his hips, begging.

"But you know what else is mine?" you threaten and tighten your grip on his cock. "Your orgasm." You let go entirely.

"I'm cumming-!" his body tightens, his cock jumps, and his cum dribbles out in a pathetic drool that sneaks down his throbbing shaft to smear against your clothes. "N-no, please?" Hanzo has tears in his eyes from the ruined orgasm, at the lack of pleasure, and he has to swallow his sobs as you kiss him gently.

"You are mine, Hanzo," you breathe in his scent. "Mine."

"Yours," he repeats weakly, thickly. "All yours."

To hear that melodious timbre turn into that lust filled whimper makes you slick. God, fuck, you want to fuck your man right now. You manhandle him over to the bed, picking him up when he stumbles and throwing him right onto the mattress still half clothed.

He bounces on the bed once, twice, and stops when you clamber over him to straddle his hips. Your lips meet, tongues slip into the others mouth, all the while both of you work to divest you of clothing. When his fingers graze against your pussy, Hanzo gasps and breaks the kiss to moan out, "Y-you're wet."

You grin at him, pin his hand where it is and rub your slick lips all over it, "Do you have any idea how hot it is to hear you moan like that?"

His finger slips into you, thick and rough with callouses that make you purr and sink onto until he's knuckle deep. A moan is ripped out of him and you laugh, still riding his finger, "Yess, just like that. Another finger." He edges another finger in, his palm soaked with your fluids as you drip all over him. Unbidden, his fingers crook to catch your sweet spot and you swear, dropping heavily on his hand as it starts to massage the tiny bump.

The wet squelch of his hand in your pussy makes Hanzo blush so badly, but he can't deny how much he throbs just from hearing it, from seeing your pleasure filled face as he fucks you with his fingers.

"Mmm good," you sigh and tell him to add another digit. "So fucking good. Get me nice and opened up for your thick cock, Hanzo. Yesss, good boy."

Just those two words send a rush of lightning down his spine and he arches up, legs shifting and spreading under you. "Yours," he breathes, looking straight into your eyes as he continues to work your sweet spot.

You chuckle, pieces clicking, and you lean down to kiss him stupid even as you ride his hand rougher, "My good boy. Mine. Only mine."

The words alone drive him mad and he whimpers, begs you, "Please. Please fuck me! Please ride my cock!" His thumb shifts to press on your clit, still moving his hand and doing his hardest to make you cum.

Those bow-roughened fingers are distracting you but you manage to push through and nod, seeing his disheveled features and sex-glazed eyes and his reddened cock. You lift yourself up, letting his sodden fingers go with a filthy wet sound. His eyes are glued to his cum-soaked hand and you grin, telling him to clean himself up.

The archer does so with gusto, licking and sucking at his fingers seductively while giving you bedroom eyes. Fuck me. Take me. Own me. Destroy me. His eyes say it and more, beckoning you forth. Entranced by his satisfied noises and twitching cock, you run the head of his cock along your slit, the slick slide making the both of you moan in unison.

Hanzo starts pleading. English, Japanese, anything to get you to sit down and give him what he's been begging for. His body is trembling with want and unfulfilled desire, and he starts to buck his hips upward. Pleasepleasepleaseplease he can't take it anymore!

Fine fine, you've tortured him enough. With a grin, you sit down on his cock, sliding from head to base in one smooth move. Hanzo's eyes bulge open and he wails in a thin, reedy voice, his hips arching up into yours as you set a harsh pace. The mattress squeaks weakly as he tries to keep up with you, tries to thrust up hard into you as you descend. He can't keep it up for long though, not when your hands are busy gripping his neck and teasing his nipples and turning his brain to mush.

"A-aah! Ple-please! Oohhh-oh god, oh kami, please don't-!" his brain can't finish the sentence, can't do more than help his hands lift from the bed and to your thighs before he loses cognizance of his motor functions and just starts to babble nonsense. He's too worked up, too sensitive, too overwhelmed by your love and presence and warm wet pussy.

Your hand tightens on his neck, constricting his airways. Hanzo begs nonetheless. He can't quite remember what he's begging for, or exactly what he's saying, but he pleads and pleads until his hips start to ram up into yours. Slower, but more powerful.

You swear and let your fingers pinch his nipple painfully to earn a whimper from the insensible man beneath you. His cock, always so fucking perfect, starts to bang against your sweet spot with every thrust of your hips and his, and it makes you see stars. Heat starts to build in your belly and you know you're close.

Breathless, Hanzo can sense that you're nearing your end, and he braces his feet on the bed and hammers up into you at full force. Now, you're forced to ride him, your hand abandoning his abused nipple to balance yourself on his chest. You gasp out praises and swears in between the sounds of flesh slapping against wet flesh and snake the hand from his neck to rub your clit furiously. Almost! Almost there-!

You cum with a sharp cry of his name, bearing your hips down hard and rocking desperately to eke out more pleasure amidst the storm already raging in your body. Your hands snap to his neck, squeezing and enjoying his croaking moans as his neck and cock are constricted in tandem. He bucks his hips involuntarily, forcing out a groan from you as it jostles in your silken walls.

Hanzo's still hard and panting when you finally slide off him, even that making you wince as overstimulation hits you hard. You don't forget about him, though, and you slide between his legs.

"Legs wide," you huff and hook your knees over his. "Don't close them, you hear me?"

"Yes," he hisses, throwing his head back as you grasp his cock and begin pumping and twisting at him. The man starts to writhe under your touch, his hands fidgeting and grasping at his thighs as though to ground himself. Fire rushes in his veins, fills his lungs as he draws closer to his own orgasm, and he warns you with a plaintive cry.

"I'm close! Please, may I cum?" he whimpers, fingers wrapped in the bedsheets under him as he struggles to contain his orgasm.

"Mmmaybe," you tease him, changing your grip so you can circle your palm over his leaking head.

Hanzo's chest is heaving now, his lower lip red from being bitten one too many times. "Please! Oh kami, pleaseplease I'm so close! I'm going to cum! Please may I cum!"

"Mmmmm not yet!" you giggle and dip your head to breathe on his red and throbbing head.

He lets out a pained scream and jerks his hips, his body now quivering uncontrollably. "Pleasepleaseplease," he can't even form the thoughts to beg even partially in English. "Please let me cum! I've been such a good boy-your good boy, please let me cum! I'm yourrssss! All yours, only yours. I belong to you- Oh please ohhhhh-!" He can't hold it! He can't-he needs to-!

You hum and brush your lips against his slit in a move that sets his body on fire. "Cum."

Hanzo nearly bows off the bed, his forehead nearly touching the mattress as he cums so hard he doesn't even make a sound. His mouth is stuck open, tongue lolling out and drool leaking from the side of his mouth as he gurgles a thank you. Cum spurts from his tip, some landing on your lips as you pull away quickly and stroke him through his orgasm. He cums and cums and keeps on cumming until it peters out into a small dribble down the side of his cock. The archer is nearly unconscious from the force of his orgasm, his body still twitching with the aftershocks.

But you're not done with him, oh no, not even close.

Your hand shifts its grip once again and you swallow his cock into your mouth.

"OH FUUUUUUUCK!" Hanzo shrieks at the top of his voice and starts to struggle under you. His hips wriggle and writhe under your mouth as you suck on his half-hard cock which slowly stiffens under your ministrations. He's sobbing loudly, incoherently; his legs pulling up and thighs trying to close around you. Your arms pin him down and your tongue goes to work, your head bobbing up and down and uncaring that he's literally crying tears at the overstimulation.

His fingers grip the bedsheets and tear them, the pain only a drip compared to the agony that your tongue serves. Hanzo's throat begins to hurt from all his screaming and pleading, his stomach aching from clenching up tight.

The muscles all over his body rolls under his warm skin hypnotically, driving you to take his now hard cock all the way down your throat. When your nose is buried in his pelvis, you swallow.

"Aaaaa!" he screams yet again, hoarse voice rendered husky as he cums again. This time his cum is a pathetic dribble, barely affecting you as you come up for air and swallow him all the way down again.

"Please nooooo!" he wails, hands coming up to tangle and grip his hair as his body convulses. "I can't! There's no more! I can't cum anymore! Oh please stoooppppp!"

You pop him out of your mouth but keep stroking at him as you answer deviously, "Your orgasm belongs to me, baby. And I'm going to take them all."

Hanzo cries and sobs weakly, his body finally giving out and leaving him to shiver on the bed as you suck him again. "Yours. Yours..." his words are mumbled and faint. "Please...please..." His dark eyes are rolled into the back of his head and his lips are slick with saliva, his body misted with perspiration. His mind is shredded, gone with all the cum in his balls, and when he finally orgasms, it's a dry, weak thing.

His cock is raw and feels like it's on fire when you take it out of your mouth. Hanzo's breath merely stutters in its wake, but he makes no other movement as you crawl up his body to lie next to him, your lips ghosting against his jaw.

"Whose are you?" you whisper, hands untangling his from his sex-mussed locks.

"Yours," comes his reply, weak, breathy, but still so loving. His dazed eyes meets yours and you smile affectionately.

"Mine."


	33. Junkenstein - Wrapped Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Junkenstein fic per the request of L_FLYHIGHT and Sera here on ao3! Enjoy!

When Jamison Junkenstein realises who exactly wears the pants in the relationship, it comes with the requisite explosive reaction.

It happens on a day that's completely ordinary. He's ensconced in his lab, high in a tower away from the rabble of the village, busy perfecting his zomnics. Head deep in metal guts, he doesn't hear you come in through the door, but he does find his body turning towards you as you approach him.

He calls your name happily when you get close. Gets up and folds his hands behind his back and leans forward to kiss you gently. Apologises that he's not clean even as he drags a padded chair over for you to sit. You smile at his courtesy and his panic in cleaning his workspace and his hands.

With a gentle hand on his arm, you stop him; offer to feed him rather than have him clean up and have to set up later all over again. A warm feeling blooms in his chest then, clean and pure despite his dirty work, and Jamison smiles like the sun peeking out of the clouds. He calls your name reverently, lovingly, and thanks you with a nuzzle to your cheek.

He picks up a low stool and sets it before you, folding his long body at your feet to sit on it. It's instinctual, to let you have the cleanest chair and for him to look up at you. You don't say a thing, neither does he, the silence companionable between the two of you as you retrieve a sandwich from your satchel. It's a simple thing, hearty and filling. He enjoys it nonetheless, eating from your hand happily and keeping his hands on his thighs so he won't dirty your pristine clothes.

Jamison quips about his inventions uncharacteristically quietly, his eyes shining as you respond and help him brainstorm. He needs a new angle for his greatest creation; still needs something that's missing that he can't figure out for the life of him. You pitch ideas in, become the devil's advocate, and reaffirm his experiments and make him feel like he matters to you. He does, you tell him with a loving smile, he does matter to you. No matter what his Lord thinks.

Just then, there is a knock at the door. You get up, brushing the crumbs off your hands and into the pocket of your apron, and answer the door. There, standing at attention, is a young squire. He's on the cusp of adulthood, still bow kneed and bright eyed, Jamison thinks. The squire tells them that the Lord requires his presence, but though you have stepped aside for the squire to address Jamison, the boy still looks towards you as he says it. It's not to admire you, the scientist can tell, but rather that he regards you to be the one to report to.

He snaps at the boy, reminds him that _he_ is Junkenstein, not the woman. You don't take offence, rather quirking your lip as his hair stands on end like a cat's hackles. The squire trembles, knees knocking, and stutters that he thought you were his Lady, then turns tail and runs away. You stifle a smile and close the door behind him. What a cute child.

But when you turn to look at Jamison, he's hunched over where he stands, eyes shadowed and fists clenched. Your brows furrow. Was he that affected by what the squire said?

You call out to him softly, quietly reminding him that the squire was a silly boy and that it wasn't true. You're his lady yes, but not his Lady. He doesn't listen, you can tell. Instead, he rages. He screams that it is an affront that he is not taken seriously. That even in his personal life he is lower than someone else. Does he not deserve all the accord? Does he not deserve the recognition for his achievements and his creations? How is he still lesser?

He fumes that he defers to you so naturally, that he automatically thought of your comfort and gave you the best things before himself. His blood runs hot and he sweeps all his creations off the table. Throws the stool. Crushes glass apparatuses and punches metal.

It's intimidating, to be sure, but you know he won't hurt you. Won't dare to. So you just stand still as he gets right in your face, back arching due to the height difference. He's breathing heavily, chest heaving, until you speak. You ask him if that's what he wants; to be in charge. To be on top. To be served and not to serve. To have you worship him on your knees like all the women do the Lord.

He freezes, throat tightening and hands trembling. He wants to say that he instinctively wants those things, but...but his heart remains tremulous. Jamison is confused. Torn.

You wouldn't look right on your knees, his heart tells him. Wouldn't...wouldn't look right deferring to him when you have been his rock and his guiding light. When you have led him through every crises, every failure, every victory. He's proven to himself that he was a wreck before you came in and stitched him up. That he's lesser without you to protect him. He can barely care for himself, what more another person who depends on him? What does he, a scientist hell bent on inventing and impressing his Lord, know about caring for a relationship?

You wouldn't look right beneath him. Wouldn't look right looking to him to lead.

Jamison slumps down, his broad shoulders collapsing. No, he doesn't want to be the one in charge. He says so in a quiet voice, a stark contrast to the carnage of metal and glass behind him.

You slowly approach him, arms held aloft, and wrap him in your embrace. Unbidden, Jamison falls to his knees, his arms raising to wrap around your waist as he buries his head in your chest. It's not laziness that drives him to whisper that he wants you to decide what to do with him. To decide his path and his fate. It's trust, so deep and true that it brings tears to his eyes as he finally sees it for what it is.

It's love. Different from what his Lord and the village know, but it's love nonetheless. You tell him so; tell him that it doesn't matter who's in charge when all you're doing is loving each other the way you both know how.

As you run your fingers through his sooty white hair and kiss his pale forehead, Jamison sighs in contentment. In your arms, he finds unconditional love and safety. And he won't trade that for all the control in the world.


	34. Junkrat - Hands

You think his hands are beautiful. He thinks otherwise.

You think they’re so graceful despite being so long and knobby, so meticulous in the way he tinkers with his bombs and his armaments that contradicts his anxious and twitchy nature. He’s calm when he’s at work, so focused and intent. It’s stunning, really, when he settles into this mode that allows the quiet air to only be filled with soft music and the clinking of metal and plastic. That one hand is a prosthetic doesn’t impact how sinuous his movements are, doesn’t impact how effective he is and how adept his digits move when he carefully crosses wires and solders metal into place.

It doesn’t impact how lovingly he cups your face when you bend over his seated figure, doesn’t affect how he’s so skilled in pleasing you.

You tell him so, but he doesn’t believe you.

He sees his deficiencies. He sees that he’s only half a man, twisted and gnarled beyond measure, roughed up by the wasteland he grew up in. He sees that he’s so dirty and calloused and…less. Jamison sees the stares that other people give the two of you when you have your fingers intertwined with his. Sees the vast differences between your hand and his.

But he also knows that you love him despite all that. That you love how his hands support you after he’s sucked orgasms out of you from your pussy, how his hands can sink into you and touch all the right places, how his hands can bite into your flesh but leave no marks behind when you’ve teased him beyond sanity.

Jamison is prone to destroying everything he touches, that’s for sure. It doesn’t just include the explosives he throws at others or how he’s so adept at tearing others to pieces with just his barbed tongue. It extends to how he rends the bedsheets after one too many denials, how he accidentally snaps his restraints when you rip his fourth orgasm in a row out of him, how he manages to chew through his gag just to scream out his praises and his pleas.

Those hands of his destroy, but they also create. They create happiness.

When he crafts a rocket launcher just for you, complete with a coat of paint in your favourite colour, you shower him in kisses and hugs. When he tries his hand at baking cookies - which aren’t quite edible but you enjoy them anyway -, you throw him on the bed and make out like it’s the last day you’ll live. When he temporarily puts aside his hatred for omnics and patches Bastion’s busted gun up, you pull him aside to fuck him stupid against the wall.

So yes, Jamison knows his hands aren’t beautiful. It’s what he does with those hands that make you love them. And that’s why he’s beginning to love them too.


	35. Genji - Kintsugi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by lining the repaired edges with laquer (usually gold or silver). It treats breakage and repair as part of the pottery’s history rather than something to disguise. - Wikipedia

You catch Genji on a lazy day when the cyborg is meditating in his room. You enter with a soft greeting, arms filled with supplies which you dump on the bedside table quietly.

He opens his eyes to greet you in return, body turning to help you arrange the items. It’s a body painting set, he realises, and he raises a brow at you. Were you intending to doodle on him?

A laugh escapes you when he says it. You shrug and give that weird hand wriggle that tells him he’s sorta close but not quite right. With a quick order, he strips off his armour and shoes and helmet, putting all of them on the armour rack he has in the corner.

Now as bare as he’s going to get, he’s directed to lie in the middle of the mattress on his front. He settles in without a word, dark eyes following you as you squeeze out some gold paint onto a plate and mix it with some water. At his glance, you explain that Angela said he wouldn’t have an allergic reaction to the paint, nor would it cause any rashes or anything. You take a Japanese calligraphy brush, clean and unused, and dip it into the paint to smear a line onto your skin to show him.

Contrary to what you expected him to do - probably to just take a look and hum his approval - he props himself up on his elbows and guides your hand to him, admires the contrast of the paint against your skin. He jokes that he should be the one to decorate your skin since it looks so pretty on you. Well, if it weren’t for his atrocious calligraphy handwriting of course.

You giggle at him, slap lightly at his hand. A charmer as always. You take your time to climb onto the bed and settle yourself on his ass, playfully squeezing his ass with one hand as you sit down. Probably for the best that those fleshy globes are out of your sight; you’d get distracted otherwise. The plate is balanced in one hand, the brush in the other, and you brush the back of the latter hand against the marred skin of his back. It’s a twisted mess of scarred flesh and clean silver metal and grey cable-like fibres.

You faintly see the remnants of a bright green dragon coiling over his back and trace it with a finger.

Genji takes a deep breath under you, knowing what you’re looking at and although he’s come to terms with it, he still feels…inadequate. Wishes his back were as pristine as his brother’s arm. He’s mulling over it, slowly pushing it away, when he feels the chill of the brush making contact with his back. He jumps, twists his head to look at you. Finds your face still in concentration as you trace over the pattern with the fine tip of the brush.

Ah, he remembers. You have some skill in painting. Perhaps you wanted to line over his ruined tattoo?

He asks you so, but you hum mysteriously and tap his head with the plate. Wait and see. Patience. He quietens down, folds his arms under his head so it’s propped to allow him to quietly watch you out of the corner of his eye.

Your brush dances across his skin, unaffected by the uneven dips and hills of his mottled skin and cybernetics. Slowly but surely, the dragon rises again, its green scales now highlighted in gold. It takes on a new life, you think, as you carefully trace out several missing portions from your memory of a pre-incident Genji. It’s not quite perfect, you admit, but you like the way it looks.

The ninja under you stirs when you finish off his dragon’s tail, wanting to turn but you place the plate on his head to stop him. Not yet, you shake your head without opening your mouth. He settles, calms, and lets you do your work.

You put the final whisker on his dragon’s snout, then move on to the marred flesh that you can see. Each scar is lined with gold, every burn where human meets machine painted in the same sheen. When you’re done, you look at your masterpiece and sit back on his rump, placing your now dry plate and brush to the side to be cleaned later. You take your phone and snap a photo, leaning forward on his quickly drying back to show it to him.

When he sees his back, normally so wretched to the point where he can’t bear to look at it, now outlined in gold and revitalised, Genji can’t stop the tears that well up in his eyes. He sees his ugliness celebrated. He sees the minute cracks that still exist but doesn’t think that they’re ugly. He sees the amalgamation of skin and metal and doesn’t feel the phantom pains they usually cause.

He wants to thank you, but his breath catches in his throat and he chokes on a sob. Tears bead at the corner of his eyes, blurring his vision and turning the image into a golden and silver glow. Genji smiles through it, sniffling and burying his head into the pillows from the rush of emotions that he can’t stop.

You coo at him, hugging him and nuzzling his burning cheeks. He’s worth it, he’s worth all of it. He patched himself up after so many years of anger and suffering. He’s beautiful, always has been, always will be. He melded those broken pieces together and turned what was supposed to be a weapon into something that he can love. Someone that you can love.

He only cries louder at your declaration, rolling onto his side so he can gather you in his arms and sob into your chest. Genji has had to live with pain for a long time, but now? Now he doesn’t feel anything but the warm glow of love and acceptance.


	36. Hanzo - Birds and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mayumi (麻弓) - Japanese name meaning “True Bow (Archery)”
> 
> \- From 20000-names.com

When you return home with a little pink and green bird in a pretty cage, Hanzo is speechless and more than a little incredulous. A bird? On base? How did you even manage to sneak it in?

You wave off his concerns and mutter that it’s a favour for a local who needed to get rid of some of the chicks in the nest. This was the oldest one and apparently had a penchant for being able to identify people by name and flying to them when ordered. Through a bit of convincing and arguing, Winston and Athena agreed to use the little lovebird as an on-base messenger.

As you explain the situation to him, your body is moving towards the desk sitting by the window. The cage is set down, the door opened, and the little lovebird flaps out and hops onto the desk. It chirps and dances, seemingly already used to you as it flies onto your shoulder and perches there.

At his arched brow, you sheepishly tell him that you might have spent a while at the local’s place hand taming the bird. He rolls his eyes at you and hunkers down in his corner to continue maintaining his bow. He likes to call your little hobbies frivolous, but you know he doesn’t really mind it. Well, until you brought one home.

For a good while, Hanzo avoids the little lovebird. You gave the little one a name and told Hanzo to use it, who grudgingly agreed. It’s a pet, he complains as he watches you play with it, eyes jealous as you focus on the bird rather than him.

Sometimes you tease him for his jealousy, sometimes you humour him and settle the lovebird back in its cage and go cuddle him. But most of the time you encourage him to touch the little bird too. After all, both he and the bird like attention, wouldn’t they play quite well together?

Hanzo’s not quite amused at your so-called witty quip but tries for you all the same. He takes a pen and lets the bird hop onto it, drops seeds and fresh fruit on the table for it to nibble on. It takes them a long while to get used to each other, and even then the little lovebird is never comfortable being around the dragon lord.

Maybe that’s why he’s not good with animals, he thinks. Because of his dragon. Even in his youth he had no luck with befriending them.

You consider it, nod, and tell him that you’re not going to force him to interact or play with the bird in that case. The last thing you wanted to do was to distress him over his apparent lack of connection with the lovebird. Hanzo shakes his head at you, tells you he doesn’t mind it, but perhaps deep down he wishes that your bird would like him.

Then one day, it happens.

He’s sitting in his usual corner by the window, using the sunlight to see where he’s unbinding the wraps on his bow. It’s boring work, but necessary. He oils it, polishes it, shines it, and works on the arrows and ensures his quiver is in good condition. As he fixes the fletching on his arrows, a soft peep shakes him out of his mild meditative state.

The little lovebird has its beak latched to a piece of fletching and hops away in victory, tweeting all the while. Hanzo blanches and scurries to snatch it back, barking at the bird.

The lovebird is small and slippery, flapping and flying here and there to send Hanzo on a merry chase that sends the archer climbing over the bed and jumping to try and catch the bird out of the air. Cheery chirps and a low melodious laugh fills the air as Hanzo finds the anger draining out of him as he watches the bird tease him. It lands on the spot where he was sitting, head arching back to tuck the soft material in its beak into its plumage. It ignores Hanzo and picks up a few more, tucking and tucking until it looks like it grows a second tail.

When it’s done, the lovebird looks up at Hanzo and tweets a happy tune, hopping until it perches on his half done bow, settling and appearing to wait for him.

Hanzo hesitates for only a moment, then elects to slowly pad over and kneel down. He brushes a tentative finger over the head of the lovebird, smiling when the little avian leans into his touch and peeps softly.

You lean against the doorjamb and smile at the two, eyes sparkling in wonder and affection as the lovebird flies onto the archer’s shoulder and nests against him as he returns to fussing over his equipment.

A small grin crosses your face then as you remember what you named the bird. Guess Mayumi is a fitting name after all.


	37. Gabriel Reyes - Pumpkin Queen and Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of NSFW. After tomorrow, I'll be working on requests and Kinktober so you'll be seeing an influx of the good stuff soon!

“That can’t be safe,” your voice snaps Gabriel out of his daydream and he tilts his head to look at you.

He stands at an ironing board, shirtless and in a threadbare pair of boxers, pressing out a sheet of dark fabric. The steam hits his skin as he passes the iron over the board, misting up his pecs and abs. Gabriel grins at you and sets the iron to the side to go and greet you.

With a gentle kiss, he shrugs and lets you gather him into your arms, “Well, I haven’t been burned yet.”

You roll your eyes and wipe away the thin layer of water on his chest, “Let’s not jinx it. What’s the fabric for?”

Gabriel looks at you like you lost your mind. “Uh, Halloween?” he gestures to his workstation, where a half done costume is rumpled in a pile next to the sewing machine.

A tilt of your shoulder answers him as you ask him about what he’s making. Halloween isn’t too big of a celebration for you, but you appreciate that he’s so excited about it. Plus, there’s a certain charm about dressing up and drinking all night long.

With a soft huff, you tell him to get back to his ironing while you snoop around. There’s a finished pumpkin head on a shelf, along with some gauntlets and his shotguns which were trussed up for the season. His room is messier than usual with the scraps lying haphazardly in a bin next to his table, and the entire surface is covered in drawings and thread and fabric. But it’s still so him. So Gabriel.

You flip through his sketchbook and find a matching dress that’s so beautiful it makes you pause. It’s fully coloured, complete with minute patterns in the hems and neckline. With a grin, you point it out and watch his back stiffen as he turns his head and blushes at you with a sheepish grin.

He hopes that you would agree to go as a pair to the Halloween party this year, hence the matching pattern and design.

There’s no way you would, or even could, deny him when he shoots you his rare puppy eyes. So you agree easily, and watch as his grin lights up his scarred face. You bet those kids of his, that cowboy and ninja fellows, would drop dead if they ever saw this side of their boss. All the same, it makes you laugh and pad up to him to kiss his neck.

He starts to ramble about the fabrics he wanted to use, about how he thought they would complement your skin tone and personal fashion sense. But he admits that he also wanted the two of you to match, where everyone could see that he was with you and vice versa.

You laugh, “Pumpkin man and pumpkin woman?”

You did see the other mask that he planned in his sketches.

Gabriel shakes his head with a soft chuckle, shaking the fabric out as he finally irons it out. “Nah, it’s Pumpkin Queen and her Pumpkin Knight,” he corrects you and turns off the iron.

You purr and turn him around, sidling up to slide your hands up his built chest and lace together at the back of his neck. With your clothed body pressed to his, you lean up to lick at his chin, “Hmmm, that’s a good idea. I like having my own Pumpkin Knight.”

Your lover lets out a cheeky grin, then he kneels slowly, his eyes still locked on yours as he slips one hand from his neck to kiss your knuckles sensually. “I’m at your service, Your Majesty.”

A wicked grin crosses your face. You check that the door is locked and shove him onto his back, dropping to straddle his chest in one smooth move.

“Let’s see that service.”


	38. Sombra - I'm In

The both of you sit on the bed facing each other, fully clothed in your pajamas. Sombra sits cross legged while you have your legs in a butterfly position. She chews on her lips, twiddles her thumbs as though itching for something to do. Your hand lands on hers, calming her with gentle strokes on the back of hers.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, shifting so your knees touch hers but nothing else. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Sombra takes a deep breath and gives you a tired smile. “No, carina, I…I want to do this. I just…need to let go.”

You rub your thumb against her hand, “Take as much time as you need, love.” With that, you get up and dim the slights slightly, turning the radio on to let a female singer croon out the lyrics to a soothing song.

The hacker lies down on her side with her hands under her head, dark eyes following your form as you putter around and grab your things. Rope, candles, towels, a lighter, and a bowl of ice water. She watches as you place some on the empty space beside her and some on the bedside table. The gentle notes of the song fills the air between you, dispersing what tension there would have been.

Sombra’s form is relaxed, calm, and she just watches you with a doting gaze as you settle beside her without a word.

“You OK to continue?” you brush her cheek with the backs of your fingers, the touch causing her to close her eyes and lean into it.

She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and opens her eyes, “Yes.” It’s said with a small voice, but it’s confident, certain, and you nod with a smile.

“Alright,” you keep your voice down and shift to sit with your knees folded beside you. “Sit up, babe.”

Her body raises to an identical sitting position quietly, staying still as you take the bright purple and put it into her hands. You show her that it’s completely made of soft, treated hemp. No metal, no tricks, just plain old rope.

She closes her hands over the soft material. It takes a while, but she takes a deep breath and places it in your hands and smirks at you, “Having second thoughts, mi alma?”

A soft laugh escapes you and you shake your head at her, electing to say nothing. Instead, you take the rope and start to wind it around her torso over her shirt.

“Wait,” she stops you and you look up immediately for signs of discomfort. But rather than tell you her safeword, she just shucks her shirt and interlocks her fingers behind her head, winking at you.

You beam a warm smile at her and put a hand on her belly to caress it softly. “Thanks,” you speak softly, continuing your ties until her chest is wrapped in a harness. You don’t bother asking for her hands; it’s already such a big step for her to let you tie her in rope, you’re not going to force her too far just yet. The vibrant purple hemp twines around her slender form, accentuating her bra-cupped breasts and toned abdomen.

Sombra looks down at herself, then at you in surprise.

“What is it?” you ask concernedly, hand twitching towards your shears.

The latina hacker just smiles and flops back on the bed, still silent, though her hands reach out for you. “Nothing bad. It feels…safe.”

“Safe?”

“Yeah,” she blushes a little but the smirk on her face ruins the innocence of her flush. “It feels like you’re hugging me and cupping my tits, carina,” she arches her back and runs her fingers through her hair, “Do you want to do that?”

You laugh, ignoring the pang of desire that bubbles up, and instead you lean down to kiss her in order to shut her up. “Stop wriggling around or I’ll tie the rest of you up.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” she teases you, a playful glint in her eye even as she settles down, her hand lifting up to drift along your thigh lovingly. Even though she's calm, comfortable, there's just a sense of security in being able to touch you. Sombra knows she can take a lot of punishment, but this...this she wants to take it slow.

Luckily, you know her all too well, and you decide to let her keep her hand on you. It's not in the way as you lay out a towel and put the candles on it. As you flick the lighter, you reach out to caress the tops of her breasts, enjoying the smooth skin that's on display for you.

"You look gorgeous like this," you grin at her.

She leans up to kiss your chin, "You mean I don't look gorgeous all the time, carina?" Her hand travels to your crotch and massages your mound through your shorts as she says it.

You put a hand on her face and shove her down with a stifled laugh, stealing a kiss from her lips to silence her. Meanwhile, your hands are busy selecting a candle and juggling the lighter. You pull away with a soft pop, eyes roving her face to check if she's alright.

Sombra sighs, lies back in submission, and flops one arm over her head while the other slips onto your inner thigh. "I'm ok, carina."

"Good," you kiss her cleavage. "Good. This might be a little warm, but it shouldn't burn you."

She snickers, "Burn me with your love, you mean?" A laugh tears out of her throat at her own lame joke, but she shuts up real quick when your hand wraps around her neck lazily, threateningly.

"Let's not go that far, lovely," you purr with a sinister grin. "Let's take this slow." With a tilt of your hand, warm, melted wax drips onto her skin.

Sombra gasps at the sudden heat on her cleavage, squirming under your hand as she tries to figure out the sensations. It's not painful; it doesn't burn, but it leaves a warmth that makes her toes curl. A little like curling up next to a bonfire on a cold day. She moans shakingly, arching her back to push her chest out at you. She likes this. More. More.

The candle is tilted again, wax dribbling all over her exposed collar and cleavage until she's writhing under you with little gasps and praises slipping out of her smart mouth. Her hand fidgets on your thigh, the other burying into the pillow as she grinds her hips back into the mattress.

"You like this, babe?" you switch out the candle for another one, this one a little warmer than the last.

Sombra inhales and hisses, "Yessss."

Your hand slips from her neck, trails down her collar and through the solidifying wax until it reaches the cup of her bra to pull it down. Her tit pops out, firm and pliable, and you take her nipple in your hands. The hacker whimpers under you, the sound so uncharacteristic that it makes you cackle. You fondle her nipple for a little more, then pull away to release the other tit from her bra before you go back to encircling her throat.

She's gyrating her hips and sliding her thighs together, trying to gain some friction to ease the need that grows in her lower belly. It's insane how wet you're making her just by touching her so briefly. Hell, you haven't even touched her pussy at all! Sombra has no idea how she's going back to topping anyone in bed; or, hell, being with anyone else. Fuck, if she knew how turned on she'd get just from letting go, she would've asked you to do this a long time ago.

The wax drips on her nipple then, and all those thoughts go flying out the window. She arches with a cry, panting and swearing as she encourages you to keep doing that. Filthy praises and desperate pleas fall from her silver tongue, her hips bucking as you scrape off the wax with a sharp fingernail.

"OH fuck! D-do that again!" she gasps, her hand whipping down from above her head to grasp your forearm to anchor herself.

You tut at her and drip some wax elsewhere. "What's the magic word, baby?"

Sombra growls in frustration and throws her head back, pouting, "Hmph. Please do that again."

You roll your eyes. There she goes mouthing off again. You tighten your grip on her throat nonchalantly, jerking her up so you can close your teeth on the lobe of her ear. "Be polite. Rudeness gets you nothing, my love." Wax drops onto the dip of her collar, much much hotter than it was before and she cries out in surprise.

She trembles, gulps, then tries again. "Please...please do that again," she chokes out through your grip. "Hurt me."

Save me. Destroy me. Fix me. Ruin me. Take all of me. I'm yours.

Anything and everything she wants to say never makes it out of her mind, but her gaze says it all. She relaxes in your hand, lets hers drop to the bed as she closes her eyes.

Your own hard stare softens. You shift, body moving to place itself between her thighs and you prop them upon yours, pulling her crotch flush to yours. She moans, her eyes fluttering open, then squeezing shut again when you grind your hips into hers and drop the wax on her nipples again.

Sombra's panting and squirming, her underwear already soaked through and dampening the front of yours. Her hands wind in the bedsheets, the pillows, her hair, your knees. Her kissable lips drop open, swears and Spanish phrases filtering out as you scrape off the wax harshly, turning her stiffened nipples a bright red from the pain.

"Oh fuck!" she gasps, hands finally landing on your forearm, her legs tightening around yours as you build a mound of wax on her nipples. "Oh fuck I'm going to cum!" Your hips rut into hers and hers rut into yours, and between the friction against her cunt and the heat against her nipples, Sombra is on the edge of orgasm.

"Ah fuck! Please! Please make me cum! Please make me cum!" Sombra pleads in Spanish, her mind already half gone. Her eyes are glazed over and locked onto yours, desire and lust clouding her every sense.

Her grinding picks up, now so desperate that she spits out every fantasy she's ever had, everything she wants to do to you. She's lost in a sea of pleasure and she's just about to hit the rocks and-

"I'm cumming!"

You grin, your grip tighter than it was before. "Cum."

Sombra's jaw drops as she shrieks, her body stiffening and tightening as her orgasm rips through her. Her legs are iron around your hips, her hands like claws around your forearm, and her voice turns hoarse from you closing her windpipe.

When her eyes start to flutter, you let go of her throat. She chokes and pants and gasps, her eyes rolling around in their sockets as she tries to regain her senses. You can feel her slick soaking the front of your shorts and the back of her panties.

You let her catch her breath as you putter around and put away all your supplies before slipping back into the bed with her. You remove her underwear and clean her up; undo the ropes and scrape off as much of the wax as you can with a wet cloth. Clean clothes are slipped over her limp body, and you then wrap your arms around her to cuddle her under the blankets.

Sombra is still slightly out of it, but she sighs and nuzzles into your chest.

"You okay?" you whisper into her hair, hand rubbing over her back and feeling the implants along her spine.

She inhales deeply, exhales, then looks up with a smile, "Yeah. Yeah I'm ok."

That's good, you think, and hunker down to wrap her entirely with your body.


	39. Doomfist - Lucky Number

"What's this?" he squints down at the bunch of sticks you have in your fist. He's tied to a post, bent over with his hands tied behind his back. It's one of your many practice ties that he's capitulated to, and you want to take advantage of this situation while he's rendered immobile.

"Just a little game. Pick one," you hold them to his mouth and he furrows his brow at you. He carefully extends his head forward, picking one with his teeth and offering it to you. You take a look at the number you wrote on the bottom of the stick and grin.

Akande can't deny that he's a little worried and more than a little bit turned on by that evil grin on your face. "And what does that mean?"

You wag a finger before his face as you toss the sticks aside. "The number of the day is 1."

He's almost exasperated by this point. "And that means?"

Your grin turns into a leer and you tuck that finger under his chin to kiss him, "You get one orgasm today."

Excitement suffuses him and he jerks in his bonds, eyes hopeful but wary. He knows this orgasm doesn't come without conditions.

You continue, "But you only get one finger to do it with."

Fuck. Akande gulps as you circle around behind him, feels your tiny hands sweeping over and squeezing his powerful thighs and grabable ass. His ass is still tight, still tense as he tries to twist his head around to look at you. He can't turn too far before the crick in his neck gets too painful, and he lets his head hang down with a groan. He's tense, stiff, anticipating when you'd slip that finger in.

He groans as you circle his winking hole, as you wrap your hand around his balls and tug harshly. Hears the bottle of lube being squeezed and then jumps when he feels the cool liquid being spread over him. The warmth of your hand and the chill of the lube makes him quiver in his bonds, makes his legs shift as he arches his back to offer his ass to you.

You grin and drop a kiss on his heaving, muscular back. Ah, you've trained him well. To think that he was once so shy about even bending over for you. As a reward, you wriggle that finger inside, stretching him ever so slowly.

Akande wheezes and drops his head, his hips shaking as he strains not to buck against your finger. He wants to swear so badly, but that's showing weakness and he won't do that. He won't-

You sink your finger in to the knuckle and crook it just right and Akande slips.

"Fuck!" he gasps quietly and wriggles his hips against his will.

You purr and drape yourself over his large back, still crooking and swirling your finger around that little raised bump. "What's wrong, my warrior? Does it feel too good?"

Akande grits his teeth and squares his shoulders, stilling his hips by planting his feet down. He won't-he won't give in! He'll show you he has the control to wait for your order.

A laugh escapes you and you dot kisses all over his broad back, your other hand now tickling his cock lightly. "I guess I'll just do this till you break, my warrior. My big, strong, tough warrior." You lick and suck at his skin, wrap your hand around his cock until you can feel his breath hitch under you. Akande lets a quiet, breathless gasp go as you begin to rub his prostate hard.

Your other fingers aren't idle either, as they massage his perineum and drive that pleasure even higher.

Akande trembles in his bonds as he fights the urge to buck and fuck himself into your fingers. Fuuuuck. He wants to. He really wants you to fuck his hole until he sees stars. But he can't! He can't break yet!

"Still so stubborn, my warrior?" you coo as you bite at his flank. "I'll have you begging soon enough, I bet."

The man pants under you, gulping back instinctual cries. He doesn't beg. He submits to you in every way, but he'll never beg. Begging is for-is for the weak. He is strong- so he- so...

Unbidden, a choked moan is ripped from his throat as you work his prostate even harder now in tandem with your hand focusing on his sensitive head. His hips rock back, his back arched again as the slick sounds of your finger in his ass dizzies his mind.

"Ah! Ah ah ah-" he moans quietly and gives into the urge to at least rock back and forth gently against your finger. But that alone escalates his pleasure to unprecedented heights and Akande has to seal his lips shut to prevent more sounds from spilling forth. His nostrils flare, his lungs working their hardest to drag more air in now that his mouth is closed, and the sound makes him flush as you giggle against his back.

"Mmmm so close!" you moan into his skin and twist your wrist around the head of his cock. "Don't you wish you had another finger inside you?"

He does. Oh gods he wants another finger so badly. He wants you to stretch him open and fuck him until he can't think of anything but you inside him. His lips tremble as he parts his mouth, so ready to give in until you speak up again.

"Beg me, and I'll consider it."

His jaw snaps closed and he squeezes his eyes shut. No, he doesn't want to-!

But your fingers and hands are magic and it's slowly eroding his control until he's bucking back against you needily. Your finger is so slim and your hand so slick and soft and he wants more. He needs more. Needs to feel his muscles strain as you stick two, three, four fingers inside and he's gaping with the stretch.

"Please..." it's so quiet that you almost didn't catch it at first.

"What was that?" you tilt your head and dig against his prostate.

"Please!" Akande cries out, tears beading at the corner of his eyes at his defeat. "Please put another finger inside me!"

You hum and tighten your grip on his cockhead, finger still rubbing against his prostate as you think. "Hmmm. No."

He gurgles a whimper and lets his hips thrust back into you, the tip of your finger scraping and bumping so deliciously against him that it scrambles his brains. "Please! Oh my Queen, please put another finger inside me!" his begging is quiet, desperate, so unlike his strong self that you shiver in delight.

"No."

Akande shakes his head aggressively and struggles in his bonds, rocking the post he's bound to. His legs shift as he seeks a better stance, and he begs loudly as he fucks powerfully into your finger. "My Queen! I beg you, please put another finger inside me! Fuck me. Take me. I am yours, my Queen, all yours!" He's breathless now. "Stretch me, please!"

You laugh out loud now and squeeze hard on his cock while doing a pattern against his prostate that you know he loves. His hips judder as his orgasm sneaks up on him and Akande grunts as he draws close.

"I'm close, my Queen! Please!" Sweat beads on his upper lip and temples and run down his cut jawline, his face flushed as he unashamedly ruts his ass hard into your finger. It's too much! Heat is suffusing him, taking him under, concentrating in his cock until he's curling into himself with the strain of holding his orgasm back.

"Please, my Queen, may I cum!"

You watch the twitching of his back and the desperation in his hips and grin. "My loyal warrior. My beautiful, obedient, strong warrior. Cum for me."

Akande throws his head back and roars, his cock tightening into marble as he cums hard. Pearly ropes of cum spurt from his tip and decorates the floor, his ass tightening around your finger and trapping it against his sweet spot. You keep going, keep pushing his orgasm until he's sobbing and writhing against you.

You purr at him, scrape your teeth against his back and feel as he quivers uncontrollably at your slowly receding finger. Once you pull free of him and leave his cock, you hug his back and relax.

Akande heaves a huge sigh and sags down, your rope holding him fast as his legs give in from under him. He pants softly, gulps back saliva pooling in his mouth, "My Queen..."

You smile and get up slowly, circling around to his front where you squat and kiss him soundly on the lips. "You have done well, my warrior. I'm so proud of you."

He visibly preens under your praise and touch, his lips moulding against yours as he melts.


	40. Junkrat - Ride

Jamison looks at you miserably as you perch over his hips, his cock buried deep in your pussy and a fucking machine plowing at his ass. He whimpers and tries to wriggle but he's held fast by the length of rope holding his hands above his head.

"Please darl', please just ride me!" he sobs and spreads his legs wide, throwing his head back as it intensifies the pleasure that the fucking machine brings.

"But I am riding you," you tease, still scrolling through your favourite femdom website for some inspiration. "Say, what do you feel about being in chastity? Bet I can make you cum in 10 seconds after you've been locked for a week."

He growls and whines under you, his cock throbbing at the thought of being made to cum in mere seconds. He bucks his hips but you remain unmoved, still undulating your hips softly as you read a particular post that makes heat bloom in you.

"Motherfu-" he's cut off as you suddenly bounce and rub at your clit, moaning as you read out what you were looking at. But just as he's about to cum, you stop, already moving onto the next article.

Jamison drops his head back onto the pillow, tears streaming from his eyes as he thinks that you might just kill him right here in your bed.


	41. Hanzo - Service

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been away from this particular collection for so long >< Been working on Kinktober and that just takes up all my daily juice. Wish Hanzo would do this for me *0*

Hanzo readjusts his spectacles as he squints at the pile of receipts that he dumped on the table before him. Beside him sits a holo screen with a spreadsheet open on it, some parts already filled with expenditures and earnings. He sorts the receipts efficiently, one pile being your groceries, another your bills, and another your shopping. His are sitting messily in a box on the floor, not yet sorted.

The archer then meticulously records all of it onto the spreadsheet, tallying up the numbers and then adding it to your other ledgers so they all match up. It’s slightly boring work, he has to admit, his glasses slipping on his nose as he stares at the screen. But it’s work that he’s happy to do since it puts his studies to use. His father didn’t raise a stupid son who couldn’t balance his own accounts. And in any case, this saves you the trouble of going to an accountant to see if your finances are stable.

He’s just about finishing up the last bits of the ledger when he hears the staccato beats of your heels clicking on the floor. His entire countenance brightens and he turns in his seat just in time to see you come through the door, your entire form slumped in tiredness as you close the door behind you.

You give a start to see him sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by technology and paper, his stunning form clad in only a thin, threadbare shirt and sweatpants, his hair tied in a messy bun and a smart pair of spectacles framing his gorgeous eyes. Saliva pools in your mouth and you have to swallow a little. Fuck, he looks too good with those glasses on.

But when you push it aside to lean against the wall to kick off your heels, your lovely man gets up from the table quickly and pads over to you to fall to his knees, his combat roughened hands gently reaching for your shoes.

He looks up at you from under his long lashes, “May I?”

You smile, then shift your balance to rest a hand on his broad shoulder instead, offering your foot so he can take your painful stilettos off you. He slips them from your feet with practiced ease, setting them on the shoe rack that’s neatly filled with both your footwear. He kisses your knee, gets to his feet slowly with your hand still resting on his shoulder.

Leaning down, he offers his lips to yours for a kiss which you take gleefully, sounding out soft moans that you swallow as you turn the kiss hungry rather than gentle. Hanzo pulls back a little, reaching up to take off the glasses.

You stop him however, murmuring that he looks too good with them on to take them off how. The archer blushes at your words, but smiles nonetheless, escorting you to the table where he has prepared a small evening snack for you.

With a thank you, you sit as he pulls out the chair for you, moving to drape your legs over his thighs as he takes his original place. His muscles shift minutely under your calves as he collects the receipts and starts to collate them in a folder.

Entranced by his movements, you keep watching him and his glorious muscles as he folds his arms and perches his chin on them, his own hawk-like eyes on you. So there you sit for several minutes, eyes roving over the other and appreciating each other’s form.

You’re the first to crack, hand reaching for him and trailing fingers over his brow. Hanzo purrs under your touch, leaning into it. Then he sits up slightly, though still in your range, and urges you to eat your snack as his hands snake downward towards your feet.

“Would you like a massage?” he murmurs softly, hands poised but waiting for your command.

With a soft grin, you nod and start on your snack as his talented hands knead and massage your sore feet. You moan softly and smirk, his blush and the sudden bulge against your free foot not escaping you.

He does feel a surge of desire at your sound. Hanzo doesn’t deny that; doesn’t try to hide it. But he does push it aside. After all, your pleasure and comfort comes before his. So the archer just smiles and continues to ease your aches with no heed for his own itches, pressing your foot against his chest as he starts on your calves.

After all, is this not what love is?


	42. Soldier 76 - Keep Your Mouth Shut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Keep Your Head Down

Soldier 76 grunts in pain as you shove him hard against the wall of your quarters, his reprimand muffled by your lips as you kiss him hungrily, your hands throwing his mask to the ground without a care. Gloved hands wander down your form, gripping at you and fumbling for the zips and clasps to it while your own deft fingers divest him of his jacket.

The signature white and blue leather jacket is tossed over your chair, his holsters quickly following while he still fiddles with your suit fruitlessly. You hiss at him, batting his hands away and seizing them with yours to pin them by his head. He's still too tall, you complain against his lips, roughly kicking his legs out so they're stretched out by you, straddling you as you press hard against him.

The old soldier groans against you, his hips rocking gently against you as you suddenly hitch his knee up over your hip, unbalancing him to the point where he strains against your grip to centre himself. You don't care about that, one hand pinning his leg against you as the other lets his hand go so you can unbuckle his belt.

Your pace dizzies him, makes him struggle to keep up with you as you undo his zip and fish out his already rock hard cock from his boxers. He moans softly into your mouth, your tongue slipping and sliding against his at the same pace as you stroke his needy cock.

"A-ah," he gasps, tries to say your name, but you growl and bite down on his lip reprovingly.

"Shut up," you snarl. "You only speak when spoken to, Soldier. Understood?" Your hand bites into his cock to punctuate your order, nails digging into him.

Soldier whimpers at the pain, whimpers at how it does nothing but make him strain into your grip. "U-understood," he whispers, gulps back another grunt as you suddenly dip your head to bite and suck at his neck. The muscles under your lips jump and move with every nibble, every lick, but no sound escapes him. It sounds strange, a little unfulfilling if you think about it. Well, then.

"Keep making those filthy noises for me, Soldier," you moan against him, moving up to his ear where you suck at his lobe until he lets loose a breathy groan at the pleasure of your tongue lapping at him. Whimpers and whines follow soon after with the twisting and stroking of your hand, gasps when you pull a little too far down and strains his foreskin.

Your other hand isn't idle however, and it snakes up to rip his black turtleneck shirt at the neck. The sudden movement and sound makes Soldier jerk back from your mouth, his own parting to admonish you. You anticipate this and let your nails cut crescent marks into his cock to silence him. Obediently, Soldier snaps his mouth shut with a click, teeth gritted as you finally tear the garment off his body.

You lean back a little, still stroking his cock, and lick your lips, "Fuck, Soldier. For such an annoying old man, you've got a hot bod. Such a fucking beautiful cock too." You lower your head to close your teeth around his nipple and pull painfully, your other hand still working its magic on his cock until he's swearing from the stimulus. His body trembles under your hands and mouth, his chest heaving from all the panting he's doing. All of it makes you smile around his flesh, worrying the taut peak between your teeth before suddenly letting go and relishing in his broken groan at the sudden lack of pain.

You smooth it over with a finger, licking and sucking at his pale, scarred flesh until the wide expanse of his chest is completely covered in bruises, bite marks and hickies. "You've been hiding this beautiful bod, Soldier," you purr, looking up at him through your lashes, tongue still busy lapping up the salty taste of his skin. "Bet no one's touched this for years, huh? Such an annoying fucker doesn't get laid, does he?"

He whimpers at your words, it cuts deep but not like he expects. Doesn't cut him down but just makes him hotter. A retort is burning at his throat, his tongue, just begging to be said. For a moment, he tries to hold it back, then thinks again about how you'd shut him up.

"Didn't think you'd want to fuck an annoying old man like me," he scowls back at you with little bite behind his words, his eyes free of acid but instead full of playfulness and challenge.

You smirk then, harsh grip turning soft as you leave his cock entirely to walk your fingers up his marked chest. They make their way to his chin, where they stroke him gently for a moment. They dance over his cut jaw once, twice, then your fingers turn to steel as they slip past his lips and teeth to hook into his mouth. With both hands, you jerk him forward and plant your lips on his cheek.

His hands land on your waist, gripping hard, as you whisper dangerously, "Oh, you underestimate how fuckable you are, Soldier. Well, as long as you don't talk, anyway. Now, do I have to gag you or will you shut up on your own?"

Lightning zips up his spine at your threat, his cock jumping and leaking between your bodies as he squirms at the notion. He wonders what you'd gag him with. His belt? Your hand? Your pussy? Or...your panties?

You don't give him time to fantasise about his options though, as you rip your fingers from his mouth and jerk his pants and boxers down his hips to his knees. With him thoroughly exposed, you lock both hands around his neck and drag him over to your bed, shoving him so he falls over onto the mattress, unbalanced and unable to catch himself.

He lands with a soft grunt, one that turns into a moan as you climb over him and kiss him deeply, angrily, devouring him until he starts to tremble under you. His hips rut against you, his cock seeking contact and friction against your suit.

A hand stops him, grips his cock. Soldier gasps, watches you as you rear up above him to strip your bottoms quickly. You toss the trousers over the side of the bed but keep your panties, stuffing them into his mouth. "I don't want you getting any ideas," you grin, angling yourself over his cock without fanfare. "Your cock is like god's gift to women, but if you talk, this is gonna be over before you can even say 'please'. Got that?"

Soldier swallows his instinctual quip, instead nods his head and watches his cockhead part your lips with bated breath. Fuuuck you feel so good above him. Feel so good taking control of him and using him like a toy. Then, you sit on his cock, letting him slip into your warm, silky heat so slowly that he can't stop the desperate whimper that escapes his throat.

The taste of your pussy is so strong in his mouth, reminds him of the bliss he found between your thighs not an hour earlier. It makes him squirm under your heavenly weight, edging himself deeper into you until you finally sit astride his hips like it was your throne.

You moan out loud at the feeling of his hot, thick cock inside you, moan about how his monster length feels inside you as you start to ride him. Rocking back and forth and bouncing up and down until you settle into a rhythm that sends the both of you reeling with pleasure. His hands clamp down on your hips, helping you fuck him as yours dig into his abs and score deep red lines on his alabaster skin. The muscles ripple under your touch and he arches up into you, his cock hitting you so deep and sweetly that you hiss out his codename in ecstasy.

Just that alone makes Soldier moan through your panties, the still slick gusset coating his tongue and making him long for your pussy. To taste you again. But he can't beg, not when you've threatened him with something he'd honestly be afraid to incur. No, he can't beg verbally, but there are other things he can do to show his desperation.

His hips buck up into you, feet planting on the bed and powerful thighs flexing as he carefully gathers his strength to plow into you as hard as he dares. Luckily for him, you enjoy his participation and purr your approval, leaning over so your body is flush against his and you can nibble at his lips teasingly. Your hands move to his thighs and his ass, wedging them beneath his form and the mattress to scratch deep marks into his muscular ass as he fucks you hard.

"Harder," you moan, teeth biting down on his lips as he obeys dutifully, legs shifting so he has a better stance to hammer up into you. His cock hits the right spot all the time now, the tip jamming against the back of your pussy with painful pleasure that stokes the roaring fire within your belly. You growl his codename, encouraging him with words and lips and hands alike, urging his hips harder, faster.

Soldier swears behind his gag, turning his head so he can kiss you. Kisses you with gusto and need, fucks you with such vigor that you purr against his lips. His body undulates against yours, your own riding him for all he's worth.

But soon enough, the fire in your body is too much, too strong, and you rear up to sit down hard on his cock, body curling in on itself as you cum hard. You roar at him to move harder, faster, to fuck you through your orgasm and Soldier complies with a muffled scream. Your silken heat clenches hard on him, sucks him so blissfully that he can barely thrust into it. But your cum and slick makes it so much easier, makes it possible for him to slip and slide past your puffy lips. Your cum soaks his hips and splatters onto his balls and the bedsheets, the sound echoing in Soldier's head and ears until he's sure he'll never forget the sound.

You ride the wave of your orgasm, panting and ordering him to stop once it gets too much. A break. Just a small break. Soldier still writhes under you at the sudden lack of movement, his hips juddering as he bemoans his receding pleasure. He was...he was closer to orgasm than he'd like to admit.

His hands are still anchored onto your hips, his thumb caressing your soft flesh as he waits for you to come down from your high. It only takes a few moments, but finally you breathe a sigh and start rocking on his hips again.

"Fuck, even your cock is like magic," you huff and slick your hair back in one easy motion, the other tapping on his belly like it was telling him he did a good job. "I bet you wanna cum real bad, don't you?"

Soldier whimpers and nods, his whole body shaking with the motion and it makes you laugh.

"Alright alright," you wriggle your hips teasingly, clenching on his cock with your inner muscles. "You've made me cum twice, old man. It's your turn now. Fuck me until you fill me with your cum, you got it? And ask permission before you cum."

Soldier thanks you with a muffled moan, his hands readjusting so he can finally fuck up into you with all the force he's wanted to use. You bounce above him with a surprised moan before you get used to his pace and strength, hands on his shoulders and nails digging deep as you lock eyes with him.

He watches you jerk above him, your chest shaking with the force of his thrusts, making him lust so badly to see you completely naked, to see your chest jiggling as you fuck him. But he can't, so he just sucks harder on your panties and rails into you with all the repressed desire of a man who's been teased out of his mind.

All the teasing and licking and your voice catches up to him, building his pleasure back up and making molten lava heat up his body again. He tenses against you, hips losing their steady rhythm as he climbs that peak. With every thrust he makes, his mind loses control over his tongue and he starts to beg you through his gag.

You can only barely make out what he's saying, but you have to admit that maybe he sounds better in bed than he does on the field.

"Please make me cum, ma'am." was one that you could understand.

"Fuck your pussy feels so good, oh fuck please let me cum!" was another, and this one makes your cunt spasm around him as his eyes roll into the back of his head as he says it.

"Oh gooood. Oh my fucking goooood. Oh fuck please please let me cum." He's begging you so sweetly that you rip out your panties from his mouth and instead tangle your tongue with his. Your hips slam down hard on his in time with his thrusts, making his voice break as the sheet pleasure overwhelms him.

Your fingers bite into his nipples and you kiss him sloppily, commanding against his lips, "Cum for me, you fucking asshole. Fucking cum, now!"

Soldier screams into your mouth as his body arches off the bed with the force of his orgasm. It rips through him and he's desperate to jam himself as deep into you as he can, his hands scrabbling against your hips to pull you hard onto him. His hips make short thrusts against you, your cunt gripping tight around him and milking him for everything he's willing to give. His seed fills you, the warmth making you moan into his dying scream, overflows and seeps past the seal of your pussy around his cock.

And then finally, when his balls relax and his cock ceases to throb and twitch, you lean up onto your elbows on either side of his head to observe him.

Soldier's a complete mess now. His eyes are half-shuttered, pupils contracting and expanding uncontrollably. His lips are parted, his tongue slack, and drool leaks from the corner of his mouth. That soft, white hair of his is mussed, the short locks messed up and spiking all over the place. And his delicious body...that delicious muscled body of his is completely marked with bites, hickies and scratches, marks that won't fade for a while even with his healing abilities. You're still sitting on his cock, though you're sure that it'll be as red as his kiss-bitten lips, slick and shiny with your cum and his.

You purr in contentment, opting to kiss his cheek gently.

"You alright?" your voice is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to moments earlier.

Soldier rouses himself, eyes still unfocused, but his voice seems somewhat stable as he answers you, "Still think I'm an annoying old man?"

You roll your eyes and slap his face in annoyance, "Yeah, you're fine." You move to get off him, but his arms suddenly wrap around you like a steel vice, pinning you to his body. Your eyes dart up to his, mouth parted to hiss at him until you see the vulnerable look on his face.

"...Stay," he mumbles, face flushing again. "At least for a while."

A soft laugh tears from you but you acquiesce nonetheless, relaxing and resting your head against his broad chest. "It's my room anyway. If anyone's going anywhere, it's you."

The soldier huffs in amusement, shifts his head to nuzzle your head affectionately, the mix of sweat, your shampoo and your unique musk calming his rapidly beating heart. His cock softens inside you slowly, the only indication of time passing as you both bask in the other's presence. For once, he isn't pissing you off with his face alone, which makes you marvel a little at the sheer sexual attraction you both have to each other. But it makes you think a little...he didn't...he didn't try to take control. Isn't this guy a control freak?

You look up, wanting to ask, but you stop at the blissful, peaceful look on his face. Maybe this isn't the right time to ask. So instead you press a kiss to his bruised chest, sighing deeply.

"Let's do this again sometime," you murmur against his skin, not wanting to look at him. "You're not bad in bed."

His chest heaves under yours as he scoffs while his arms tighten around you securely, his nose still buried in your hair. "Yeah well, this old dog's still got a few tricks."

You laugh at his dry wit, arms curling around his broad form to encase him in a warm hug. Well goody for him, because this bitch is going to teach the old dog some new ones.


	43. Hanzo - Sensei Headcanons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technically not a drabble or prose-like, but I thought you guys here on AO3 would be interested in it too.

**General**

Despite this being university, Hanzo doesn’t like to be referred to as Mr Shimada, Shimada-san, or even by his first name. Hanzo-sensei is the default that he prefers, though Shimada-sensei will do if his students don’t feel comfortable enough to use his first name. 

No one really knows what he used to work as or where, but when he came to the school several years ago he caused a ruckus amongst the staff who thought he was over-qualified. He spends most of his time in his office if he isn’t taking lectures or tutorials, either researching or working on his class material. One can say that he’s one of the more devoted researchers in his faculty.

You’d be hard pressed to impress him though; he has very high standards for his students. He’s clear and meticulous when delivering his lessons, and he expects his students to be prepared when they come for lectures and tutorials. However, despite this, students love his lectures because they can often twist exam or test hints out of him quite easily, or he somehow slips the hints to an entire answer out. It’s for this reason that he refuses to record his lectures if he’s going through exam preparations.

Hanzo-sensei holds consultations quite frequently, though he doesn’t mind impromptu drop-ins as long as you don’t waste his time. His consultations never run beyond 15 minutes; he actually has a timer on his desk for this very reason. He’s very receptive to students who actively seek knowledge and discuss their findings with him. Try not to outright oppose his views or say that he’s wrong - he tries not to take offense but he does get quite pissy and that might result in him ripping you to shreds with his own in depth knowledge. As he goes through the years in his tenure he does get better, since he does know the value of debate, but he just doesn’t like being proven wrong.

He always wears a skin-tight, skin coloured sleeve on his left arm to hide his tattoo. Some habits persist despite how society has become more accepting of yakuza tattooes. He doesn’t take this off no matter how hot it is. When he moves you can see a hint of the dragon’s beard on his wrist, though even that is covered by a large wristwatch most of the time.

Out of the entire faculty, Hanzo’s classes boasts the highest attendance. It could be because he’s an effective lecturer, or it could be because he favours clothes that complement his built physique beautifully.

Some days he’ll don a dark button up shirt and black slacks if he’s conducting several lectures. On those days, he’ll roll up his sleeves up to his elbows to reveal the muscles of his right forearm and the skin-coloured sleeve on his left.

His shirts are always well-tailored, thanks to his strict upbringing, and it always hugs his broad, built shoulders well and his bulging biceps aren’t hindered by the fabric despite the sleeves pulling taut on them when he crosses his arms.

On other days where he only has tutorials or he’s stuck in his office the whole day, he’ll wear sportswear. Most often it would be a compression turtleneck shirt and a pair of fitting sweatpants if it’s cold, or a short sleeved compression shirt and some shorts if it’s warm. He dresses like this so he can go to the archery range if he gets too antsy in his room. He sometimes finds that students opt to call in consultations on those days, though he thinks it’s because they know he’s free. It’s not. It’s definitely not.

Hanzo has 20-20 vision all his life, but as of late he finds himself squinting at the computer screen as he works on his research paper. So he gets some spectacles to correct his long-sightedness so he can stop straining his eyesight at work - some bare black-rimmed glasses that he thinks look smart and simple at the same time. Oh boy it sends his attendance rates through the ceiling. He’s prone to adjusting them with both hands because he’s so unused to them, but then later on he forgets that he doesn’t have it on and reaches to adjust them anyway. He’ll clear his throat and blush and hope that no one saw it.

**With Reader (some NSFW)**

Hanzo has a strict code of honour, and that includes not having a relationship with his student during the semester. This means that he won’t be interested in students that he teaches or is going to teach. He’s a bit of a stickler for this rule, so if you’re wanting to woo him, you’re going to either be from a different faculty or there is no likelihood of him teaching you.

I’d say the best way to catch his attention would be to either be in one of his elective classes and be very firm in your interactions with him, or be in his archery club where he teaches on the weekend. He’s weak to going for drinks after training and that’s the best time to get him to talk. It would take more than a few bottles to get him to open up, though he’s very susceptible to witty humour and wordplay in Japanese. Occasionally you can get him to laugh at shitty puns, but that’s him laughing at you and not the joke.

Hanzo’s eye is drawn to the striking female form and he has a preference for knitted sweaters that hug the body just right. There’s just the way it drapes over your breasts that makes him harden a little in his pants. He likes clothing that don’t reveal too much but teases at what’s underneath at the same time. So slightly baggy clothing that hugs your curves or complements your figure is your best bet, though he enjoys seeing you in clothing that you like wearing.

Guiltily enough, Hanzo has a weakness for you calling him sensei as you pin him to the chair and ride him until he’s drooling. Despite his refusal to have relations with his students, he likes to roleplay as your teacher sometimes to enjoy that forbidden fruit. It will only remain a fantasy though, because he enjoys his tenure too much to lose it over a romantic relationship.

You’d have to be an older student to last long with Hanzo, or at least have a very mature outlook and mentality, because Hanzo has little patience for whiny individuals even if he takes on the submissive role in a relationship. You’d have to be strong and know exactly what you want from life and from him, since it’s that strength and direction that he loves. He’s been adrift his entire life up until he came to the school, and having that direction and being able to let you lead is a bit of a relief for him.

Hanzo soundproofed his room for one reason and one reason only - you seem to have a penchant for nipping to his room during his breaks and fucking him senseless, or at the very least making him eat you out. When this happens he can’t help but make noises of desire and contentment, most of them louder than a whisper. He can’t seem to keep his mouth shut around you when you’re like this and he’s so incredibly embarrassed about it.

There was one time that you made him wear a cock cage when he had to conduct a lecture, and he swore he would never do it again. He was distracted the entire time by the weight of the cage, of how it reminded him of you putting it on him after edging him for an hour, and he would lose track of his thoughts when his cock would swell in its metal confines and ache like your hand’s crushing it in its grip. Suffice it to say he ended that lecture early and called you desperately so he can get some relief. That night, you gave him permission to fuck you and you don’t think he’s ever fucked you as hard. The next day saw bruises on your ass and thighs and his hips, with scratches adorning his body from your desperate fingers. Good thing it was a cold day, otherwise his students would be distracted by the livid marks on his neck and shoulders and arms.


	44. Lucio - Not Knot, Knot Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random ass title hahahaha pls let me sleep i'm so tired

He trembles over you, hips stuttering as he loses his rhythm. His head buries into your neck with a cry, the dildo in his ass gaining speed as his own falters. There's too much! Too much sensation, too much pleasure, too much everything! He needs-!

"Please! Please knot me!" he whimpers desperately into your sweat and tear soaked skin, teeth nibbling at you as he fights to get a hold on himself. He can't cum yet! You haven't-!

But you don't care about that. You order him to fuck you harder, eyes glowing, and hit a button next to you. The knot in the cock inflates, tying him and the pressure immediately causes him to orgasm. Lucio screams with his head thrown back, hips bucking into yours. Cum floods into you on the third thrust; he bucks a few more times before he stops to jam himself as far inside you as possible. 

He pants loudly, eyes dazed. He can't concentrate, can't form thoughts when your pussy grips him so blissfully. In fact, it's massaging him, contracting and relaxing like you're- Oh fuck!

His orgasm triggers yours and you orgasm around his still throbbing cock with a soft cry, your arms tightening around him until he's caged in your body with your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. With your climax, your lips close tighter around the base of his cock until he's gasping with the pressure. He's so full and he feels like you're engulfing him entirely. 

"P-please-!" Lucio's not sure what he's begging for, if anything at all, but all he knows is that the feeling of you clenching him so tightly is going to make him cum again. His balls draw up against his body and he has to gasp as he cums again, this time lesser than before but still filling you up.

"You're not going anywhere until I'm dripping with your seed," you hiss in his ear as your pussy locks him inside you. "Don't think that just because you don't have a knot means you can escape."

Lucio can't do anything but whimper and twitch his hips helplessly. That knot in his ass and your pussy around his cock is quickly turning his entire body and mind to mush. Fuck, he didn't even think about leaving but now that he knows you're not going to let him go? That's the hottest thing he's ever heard.

Your hands distract him quickly, nails biting into his back and ass and that cock in his ass whirs to life again, thrusting and pulling on the ring of muscles in his ass until he's breathless and about ready to cum again.

Under him, you giggle at his unseeing eyes and drooling mouth, at how he's just about ready to collapse onto you as he's forced in and out of your pussy by the machine. At how he cums with a weak moan and throws himself against you reflexively to shove his cum as deep into you as he can.

With gentle hands, you throw his dreads over his shoulder and cradle his head against yours as you coo into his ear. Only a few more orgasms to go before you can let him go.

Lucio wheezes pathetically, his cock hardening again inside you. He thinks you might fuck his heat right out of him tonight.


	45. Reinhardt - Tired of Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's supposed to be a one-shot but my brain farted halfway through so have part of a full fic lolololol

You pace the length of your room and fume as you stop to look at yourself in the mirror. Months of blatant flirting and an entire closet of your most seductive clothes and Reinhardt Wilhelm is still unbroken! No matter how many times you flash him your cleavage or tempt him with the sensuous lines of your field recon suit, that accursed man still keeps his hands and eyes to himself! What will it take to get through that iron will of his?!

Still, it's late, and this annoyance combined with your late night munchies makes you hangry. Fuck it, you think, and sneak to the mess hall to nick some snacks and maybe some tea to help you sleep. Still wearing your pajamas, a loose threadbare shirt and small tight shorts, you pad quietly down the barracks to make your way to the main common area.

When you slide open the doors to the mess hall, you are surprised to see some of the lights on and one of the tables occupied. It's Reinhardt, and he jumps as you step inside. He stutters a greeting, one which you grunted in reply to as you head for the fridge to rummage around inside. You aren't in the mood to try and flirt with him now; you know he's interested in you and that he wants you, you just can't figure out why he doesn't make a move. Carelessly, you withdraw a container of leftovers and plop at the next table over to dig in. You don't want to deal with his rejection right now.

Reinhardt looks at you with confusion and...something else, watching you ignore him and eat your treat. Your lips wrap around the spoon and you lick at a bit that you missed, dunking it into the container for another bite. That in combination with your rumpled, relaxed state makes his pants tighten. Those shorts that cup your luscious ass and bare your fleshy thighs makes his mouth fill with saliva, and he has to swallow thickly before he starts drooling. His fingers slack as he loses concentration, the clatter of metal and ceramic making him snap out of the daze he slipped into. Shit. He clenched his hands; if he can hold out for a little longer, he can go back to his room to jerk off to this memory in peace.

Unfortunately for him, you notice his strained figure halfway through your next bite. You look over to see a bulge tenting his sleepwear. Oh, you had been staring at his crotch far too often to be oblivious to the fact that he currently has an erection. How interesting - this is the most he's ever reacted to you. Your eyes flicker to his and you see tightly restrained need and the flexing muscles of his shoulders as he clenches his fists tightly. A thought runs through your mind, and then you steel yourself and throw caution to the wind with anger and frustration fueling you.

The former Crusader sputters as you get up and march over to him, pulling his chair out from the table with a shocking show of strength. He calls out your name in alarm, his hands raising, "W-what on earth are you doing?!"

With him clear from the table, you kick his legs open and wedge yourself between his knees. He attempts to say your name again to try and stop you, but your hand darts down to grasp his quickly hardening bulge firmly. You lean in close enough to feel his soft whimpers on your lips and then you snarl, "You know, I really don't appreciate you playing the gallant knight when both you and I are perfectly aware of our mutual attraction." Your hand massages his growing erection and a finger reaches out to tease the tip through the fabric. "Your cock doesn't lie, Reinhardt," you hiss at him, brace your free hand on his chest and feel the fluttering of his heart thunder against his palm. He's sweating, trembling at your touch, yet his hands stay aloft by his biceps as if held in surrender.

Silence fills the air and your sudden burst of confidence begins to wane. Did he...did you read him wrong? Did he not want you? It strikes you that he never reciprocates your flirting with his own, though he always humoured you by hearing you out. His eyes never leave your face when you approach him in your most seductive, yet practical, outfits. That makes you loosen your grip, hesitate, then you let go completely. "I..." you begin, your hands dropping to your sides and you start to take a step away. "I guess I read you wrong." You clear your throat - your voice had cracked - and you rub the back of your neck in acute embarrassment. "Sorry about that."

However, as you move to leave the v of his legs, they suddenly tighten to cage you in, his hands falling to your hips to rest there. "No. No, I- ah," Reinhardt stutters yet again, his deep blue eyes meeting yours as he tries to speak. "It is hard to think when such a lovely woman has her hand on my cock." His hands flex on your hips as he continues, "I wasn't sure if you - if you were just joking." He sees your incredulous expression and laughs a self-deprecating laugh. "I'm so much older, so much...less than any other here at the base."

You frown then, step back in closer until your knees brush his crotch. "You doubt me?" A hand wraps around the thick column of his neck, the other raising to his shoulder. "You insult my tastes, Reinhardt?"

He gulps and shakes his head, "No, but-"

To silence him, you place a finger on his lips and trace the buttery soft flesh. "No, you don't want this? Or no, you didn't insult my tastes?"

The heavy swallow he takes makes his lips shift against the pad of your finger, and the bulge of his pants twitch noticeably at your tone. He licks his lips and inadvertently your finger too, which makes you moan quietly. It was a quiet one, but the silence and his rapt attention turns it louder and Reinhardt trembles at the sound. You tap his lips then, dipping it in slightly, "Hm, Reinhardt? Which is it. Answer me."

"N-no, ma'am, I didn't mean to insult your tastes," he blushes deeply as he answers you around your finger.

A devious smile spreads across your lips. You want to laugh at the realisation that you were trying to peacock and shake your ass in front of him; when all it took to get his attention was to take his cock and lead him with it. Literally.

You lean into him, moulding your soft body to his harder one. "Good," you purr, another finger dipping into his yielding mouth along with the first. "Very good. Keep your hands on my waist."

He blinks but obeys, bracing you as you shift to straddle one large thigh. Even perched on his leg, your head isn't quite level with his. But you make up for it by pulling his head forward by the mouth. His jaw drops slightly as you pull, his tongue slipping and sliding over your fingers sensually.

"Mmm good boy," you whisper and wriggle your fingers a bit. Pressing and squeezing his tongue with your two fingers and enjoying the drool that escapes over the curve of his lips. "You good to continue?"

"Please," he whimpers, clutching at your hips like it's his lifeline. "Please don't stop."

You grind your pussy against his leg and kiss him deeply as you take your fingers out. The kiss is hard and deep and you never want to stop, but you have to say something first.

"If you want to stop, say 'Crusader'. Understood?"

"Verstanden, ma'am," he breathes against your lips and devours your mouth, his tongue wrestling yours for a moment before it retreats to allow yours inside. Your hand, now free, dips to slither under his loose tank top, traces the hard muscles of his thick waist and barrel chest. All the while, your kiss escalates into a full on makeout session.

Reinhardt is moaning uncontrollably as you take control of the kiss and turn his mind to mush. All he can think about is how soft your lips are and the slickness of your tongue dancing with his. His hands, still anchored to your waist, rubs the soft material of your shirt and at the back of his mind he wishes he can push the hem of the garment up so he can touch your flesh like he always wanted. The seat of his sleeping pants grows tighter still, especially as you put more pressure on it as you lean to press yourself harder against his body.

You, on the other hand, are almost squirming in pleasure as you nip and suck at Reinhardt's luscious lips. Oh his chest is nice to touch alright, but you have your eyes set on another prize. The hand around his throat descends, down past his pebbled nipples and rippling abs to the elastic waistband of his pants. You withdraw from his lips, earning you a despondent grunt,, and look into his yielding eyes as you slip under the elastic to grab a handful of his big fat cock.

"Fuck, you're so big," you pant against his mouth, grinding your slick pussy against his leg and your shorts. "I want that in my mouth."

Your declaration makes him whimper, and Reinhardt's massive hands flex on your hips in an attempt to hasten your rocking. All the while, your hand never ceases teasing his nipples and raking through his chest hair, nor does the other other stop stroking and massaging his achingly hard cock. His shaft is like a hot, throbbing brand in your hand, and you can feel the inside of your wrist dampening as it brushes against the weeping head of his cock.

Another groan tumbles off his tongue and it strikes you that the two of you are still sitting, making out, in the empty mess hall in the middle of the night. You say as much against his hungry lips and remove your hands from his body. A protest falls from his lips, but you shush it with a finger to the tip of his cock, which is trapped at the waistband of his hips.

"Pick me up and take me to your room," you command and shuffle to wrap your legs around his thick waist. "I want to properly ravish you." Your voice is husky with desire and it makes Reinhardt gulp and cradle you in his arms as he rises in one fluid motion.

His face is warm with a heavy blush, and he clutches you close as he hurries to his quarters. He pants as quietly as he can, his mind struggling against a fog of pleasure. The head of his cock rubs against the cotton elastic; your lips are attached to his neck with your tongue and teeth attacking the skin; his arms are full of your soft, heavenly form; and by the gods it's getting harder and harder for him to think!

When he sees his door, complete with his name on a plaque beside it, he almost cries in relief. The door slides opens as it scans his identity chip and he stumbles in, pressing you gently against the wall as the door locks itself shut behind him.

Reinhardt swears under his breath as you bite him in retaliation for the sudden bump against the wall. "M-my apologies," he moans and peels from the wall to sit on his bed instead. His cock twitches under your weight as you drop into his lap and a bead of precum forms at the tip, staining the front of your shorts.

You purr at the meek deference in his tone, grinding your hips against his aching cock as a reward. A breathy whimper is your own prize, and you smash your lips onto his to eat that delicious sound. All too soon however, you are wanting to get on with it. You climb off his lamp and throw off your shirt. "Strip. Then lie on your back."

He obeys wordlessly, his hands quick and efficient as he divests himself of clothing and lies on the bed. In only your panties, you straddle one large thigh and gently rake a fingernail down the underside of his throbbing cock. It jumps and so does Reinhardt. You grin, latching one hand onto his cock and the other on his belly.

"Fuck, you look so good like this," you breathe out lustily, hand stroking his turgid length. "Spread out and willing before me. Under me. You can't believe how long I've been waiting for this."

Reinhardt gulps, his chest heaving from the sensation of your hand on him, and blurts out, "Not as long as I have." Gods, how long has he wanted this? Months? No, maybe years? He would have thought it a dream but for your hand squeezing his length and your wetness on his thigh. "I've wanted you for so long."

An eyebrow quirks and you smirk, "Oh?" With your free hand, you take one of his and wraps it around his cock to replace your own. "Tell me, Reinhardt," you purr, guiding his hand to pleasure himself. "Tell me what you want. Did you ever pleasure yourself while thinking of me? Imagined that it was my hand, my mouth, that was pleasuring you?"

Reinhardt whimpers and bucks his hips once, his hands automatically falling onto a rhythm and pressure that was second nature to him by this point. He swallows to wet his dry mouth and gazes at your form as he opens his mouth, "I thought of your hands wrapping around m-my cock, playing with my balls. You-you'd be wearing nothing but -ah!- your bra." His hand takes on a faster, rougher pace and his voice grows in confidence. "I'd think of you dipping your head to lick me and I'd grasp your hair to urge you to take more of me."

He pants and you begin to rock your hips to the time of his hand. "But I- but I'm so big that you can't fit it all in. So y-you lick and suck at the head and my shaft, and tease me because I can't fit in your pussy - oh sheisse!" His hips buck and his frame tightens, a sign of his impending climax.

Not willing to let this end so quickly, you whip a hand out and wrench his away from his cock just in time to see a tiny bead of cum forming at the tip. You whistle, "That was close, Reinhardt. You almost came! Can't have that, though. Your cum, your cock?" Your hand snaps too tight over his twitching dick and he cries out, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "For tonight, they're mine, and you only cum when I say so. Understand?"

"V-verstanden, ma'am," he chokes out, falling back in relief as you let go. You massage the pain away but you realise that he's still hard even through the pain. Mmm, there's an idea.

One hand moves to cup his balls gently and you grin an evil grin, "Do you like pain, Reinhardt?" The nails of your free hand dig deep into the tender skin of his inner thigh.

The Crusader jerks with a soft groan of pleasure and he nods his head fervently when you knead his balls roughly and painfully. His panting increases in volume and a large hand sneaks to your knee to ground himself. The pain, the sight of you with his manhood in your hands, and your sultry voice sends his head spinning, his mouth opening and closing in an effort to say something.

You aren't perturbed by his lack of coherent response though, and start to rake your nails up and down his thigh to the time of the twitching of his cock. God, his balls are huge, you think. All the better when you fuck him and feel it slapping against your clit. Fuck, that image makes you wetter than before.

As much as you want to torment him a little more, it was probably time to move to other delightful parts of this man. After all, you would need a bit of help in order to take his sizeable package. Maybe you'd start with his fingers; one is probably the size of two of yours! Your nails dig deeper and you inadvertently scrape his sac, forcing a loud, filthy moan to eke out through his gritted teeth.

"God, you sound so hot," you growl. Reinhardt is going to make you cum with just his moans one day, you're sure. For now though, you need something else. Got any lube in here?"

Reinhardt has to blink to regain some of his senses before he nods.


	46. Lucio - Prostate Milking + Overstimulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was originally supposed to be headcanons but it sorta just spiraled out of control ><

Lucio loves loves loves it when you milk him, particularly after a long dry spell where he isn’t allowed to cum at all. There’s just something about you pulling all the cum from his balls without his control that drives him mad.

His favourite position to be milked is on his hands and knees on the floor. Bondage optional, but if you tie him up, make sure to put a spreader bar between his knees and to tie his hands way over his head. The feeling of being spread open for your gaze and having his own face on the floor does something to him. Something that takes him nearly to the edge and he has to beg for some time to collect himself before you continue.

Two fingers is the sweet spot for Lucio, partly because it’s like a tease of the stretch he can take and partly because he loves it when your other fingers rub at his perineum. Slow circles and rubbing on his prostate makes him wiggle and pant for more, but finger fucking him makes him rock his hips back and swear under his breath. 

“Oh god, oh god fuck yes! Right there! Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop!” Lucio has the sweetest moans and even when he’s swearing he sounds so precious that you keep on fucking him even after he’s starting to scream. 

“Yes! YES YES YES oh god keep fucking me! Moremoremoremore~!” When he fucks himself on your hand, his movements are so graceful even during such a filthy act. His hips roll hypnotically and the muscles on his back ripple under his smooth tanned skin. So much so that maybe you would be tempted to mark up his back, just to show who he belongs to.

Ah, but Lucio’s favourite part is yet to come, because when he finally faces that precipice, he begs you in his shrillest voice to let him cum. “Oh please let me cum! Your fingers feel so fucking good, oh fuuuuck please let me cum!” His cock is throbbing by now, a red hot brand that slaps against his belly with every rock of his hips. 

When he cums, it’s with a loud scream of your name and desperate bucks of his hips that cause your fingers to slip out of him. He whimpers at the loss, wriggles his hips to coax you back, and then sighs in rapture as you stuff three fingers into him and grab his cock with your free hand. 

He’s screaming, pleading, praying as you set his body aflame with desire and pain. He can’t cum anymore, he’s done, he’s tired, he can’t-!

But he can. He must, because you don’t let up until Lucio is literally trying to crawl away from you and your magic hands. Cum, white and sticky, coats the floor under him and floods his senses with the musky scent of sex. It smears on his belly, his thighs, as he struggles and writhes around in overstimulation. He shrieks as you focus on his prostate and the head of his cock, entire body stilling and locking up as pleasure assaults his mind again. 

Mouth left agape, he drools onto the floor and cries silently, his form shaking with weakness even as he orgasms one last time. His cock is raw and half-hard, his ass puffy and slick, and his balls twitched as the last of him cum is drained from him. 

Unfortunately, his ordeal is far from over. Surely that puddle of cum could be bigger, couldn’t it?


	47. Poly!Reapzo - Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Done for a birthday present to Littlescrib on Tumblr <3
> 
> Premise is that reader and longtime pet Gabriel welcome new sub Hanzo into the fold. They were supposed to train him but I totally forgot about that bit as I wrote ><

When you first bring up including a new pet, Gabriel is more than a little apprehensive. Is he being set aside for a newer, younger pet? Did this mean you’d spend less time with him? No no, you shake your head; this new pet is as much for Gabriel as he is for you. Gabriel is so very dominant - having someone to boss around would be good for him, you think.

Hanzo is smaller than Gabriel, though only height wise. In terms of breadth, you’d say you hit the jackpot with these two men. The Japanese man is quiet, respectful, when he enters the house behind you. You introduce each to the other, observing their hesitant body language as they nodded and greeted the other. Hanzo edges himself behind you ever so slightly, sharp eyes observing how Gabriel arches his neck downwards in askance. 

You nod with a soft smile, watch as your man gets down to both knees elegantly to kiss your knees. His movements are fluid, practiced, as he helps you out of your shoes and escorts you to the sofa. There, you sink into the cushions and gesture Hanzo, who was still standing at the door, closer. Gabriel moves to fold himself into a kneeling position at your feet but you stop him, instead commanding Hanzo to take his place. 

Gabriel’s not going to lie, he feels slightly miffed at the action, but he realises soon enough that it’s meant to establish the hierarchy between the three of you. Hanzo isn’t used to being at someone’s feet, but he kneels with the grace of a crane nevertheless, head tilted up to meet your gaze. An aborted move to your left makes you tilt your head - Gabriel was gritting his teeth. 

He’s not supposed to meet your eyes so readily; Gabriel swallows his instinctual snarl and stiffens his posture. There’s so many things he wants to say to Hanzo - how to and how not to address and posture oneself in front of the Mistress - but he keeps his mouth shut because you haven’t said a thing. 

You smile at his control, stroke a hand down his forearm to calm him.

“I know we’ve spoken about this before, Hanzo,” you lean forward to smooth your hand over his cut jaw. “But are you certain?”

The dragon in human’s clothing merely tips his head into your hand, flutters his eyes shut, and nods, “I am.”

“Good,” you whisper and pull Gabriel down until he’s kneeling beside Hanzo. “Then your training starts today.” You kiss Gabriel first, devouring his lips until he strains against your commanding hand and chases you when you part from him. Then, you use the hand on his jaw to pull Hanzo closer, watching those obsidian eyes flutter closed as you tease a moan from his throat with soft little kisses. 

Gabriel watches with lidded eyes, eyeing the slender line of Hanzo’s throat. It bobs as the archer swallows, his mouth dry as you bite at his lip teasingly. You turn your gaze to Gabriel then, a sensuous smile stretching your kiss bitten lips, “Gabriel, my beautiful pet, won’t you come and give Hanzo a kiss?” 

Licking his lips unconsciously, Gabriel nods and leans in to claim a hungry kiss from Hanzo’s lips, swallowing the other’s gasp. Hanzo’s lips are soft, if lightly chapped and dry, but they are oh so responsive as the archer suddenly clings to his broad shoulders. Strong fingers clamp down on the meat of his biceps and Gabriel can’t help but groan and close his own fingers over the nape of Hanzo’s neck. 

You bite your lip and clench your thighs tight at the sight, your nipples pebbling as you watch Gabriel knead at Hanzo’s admittedly grope-able pecs. The archer, in turn, massages Gabriel’s thighs and pushes his chest into the other’s touch. Already, they are undulating into each other, their muscled forms sensuous even as they brim with masculine energy. You want a bite of that. Now.

Snaking out in a blindingly fast move, you twist your hands into their hair and wrench them to their feet as roughly as you dare. Immediately, rough moans pour from their lips as they scrabble for balance, hands grasping yours as you drag them into the bedroom. Then, as quickly as you had grabbed them, you let them go and watch as they fall onto all fours before you. 

“Strip,” you command and rock back onto your heels. They look up at you, one with bewildered eyes, and another with dark orbs that simmer with barely contained passion. Gabriel obeys immediately, years of training and habit moving his hands with such efficiency that he’s bare to the skin mere moments after your order. Hanzo, on the other hand, hesitates when he realises he’s just lost his shirt in the time Gabriel takes to disrobe completely. 

You sidle up to Gabriel’s side, scrape your nails up and down his flank teasingly, all the while looking at Hanzo, “Did I stutter, Hanzo?”

Gulping, he shakes his head and finishes stripping, his body gloriously tanned in that way only the Japanese could be, and then he bows his head. Gabriel rumbles in satisfaction at the meekness his new fellow sub displays, his own leaning back when you nip at his neck. 

“So perfect,” you purr and reach for your new boy toy. He comes to you quietly, pressing his muscled form against yours when you pull him down for a firm kiss. Here, with two delicious men pressed up against you, you’re in heaven and you tell them so. Identical blushes spread across their handsome faces and you giggle and coo at them, leading them to the bed with a gentleness absent from your previous mandhandling. 

They go with you, sliding onto the bed when you pull them up with you. On either side of you, they move to kiss you when you haul them closer by the neck. Gabriel instinctively goes for your lips, sucking and nibbling; Hanzo for your jaw, his clever tongue teasing and licking until you’re squirming with pleasure. Their hands roam at your order; one to your mound where it cups and massages you expertly, and the other to your breasts to explore their shape and weight. 

You, too, are not idle. You keep Gabriel’s face cradled in your neck, letting him worship the skin there while you let your lips tickle across Hanzo’s aristocratic cheekbone. Quietly, you whisper that he’s so handsome you have no idea how no one has claimed him yet. How you’re so lucky he chose you and Gabriel to be with. Hanzo moans and blushes prettily, his fingers rasping over your covered nipple in his surprise. 

A laugh, a little tumble, and you have Hanzo under you. 

“Unclothe me,” you tell Gabriel, watching the archer’s eyes widen as your pet slowly bares you to his gaze. Strong fingers divest you of your clothes easily, your underthings thrown away to a corner of the room until you’re sitting bare astride Hanzo’s thighs. Gabriel presses himself against your back, rubbing his erection against your back mischieviously. Hanzo, on the other hand, can only stare wide-eyed at your body, his own cock bobbing before your gaze. 

You grin and lean forward to toy with his nipples. Behind you, Gabriel hears your unspoken order and slips his hands around you in an intimate embrace. One arm around your waist, and the other over your hips and into the wet heat of your pussy. He moans against your ear as he feels how dripping wet you are, how ready you are to take either of their cocks. He wonders, hopes, pleads in his mind, that he is the one who will have the privilege of entering you today. 

You seem to read his mind, or his body, and you arch your back with a sly backwards glance. Taking his cock with a hand, you angle it against your slit. Immediately, lines form along the corner of his mouth and his eyes, feeling your slick heat over the sensitive head of his cock yet knowing that he is not yet permitted into you. You laugh tauntingly, rubbing his head up and over your clit, teasing him until Gabriel is panting desperately against your neck. He whimpers, grips you closer while trying to still his hips. 

Hanzo, in the meantime, bites his lips as he watches the two of you taunt and tease each other above him. His cock flexes and a drop of precum beads at the time as he watches Gabriel’s cock slip and slide against your dripping pussy. Watches as you just barely slide the tip into you before rocking away from it and going back to rubbing it against your clit. Gabriel snarls and Hanzo finally breaks, whimpering, “Please.”

This soft whisper brings your attention back to the deprived boy below you, and you let a naughty smile cross your lips. You grip his abandoned cock gently, squeeze it just as you let Gabriel slip the tip into you. “Let’s play a little game,” you breathe, feeling the thick, hot cock of your pet stretch you open gently. “Whoever cums first is the loser. And I get to do anything I want to the loser.”

Gabriel gasps into your skin, and Hanzo gulps, “That is not a loss.”

You laugh, “It is when you’ll be in chastity for the next month.”

Both men swear and you grin. Sinking back onto Gabriel’s cock, you relish the sudden surge of tension that turns his arms to steel around you. Looking down at the prone archer, you stroke his cock and tell him to pleasure himself. 

“I know you like voyeurism, my pretty dragon,” you murmur softly and dig your nails into Gabriel’s ass to give him permission to move. “So stroke yourself just the way you like it; I want to learn what makes you twitch, what makes you moan.”

Hanzo inhales sharply, his hand trembling slightly before you direct it with your own. Your thumb brushes the tip as he squeezes the shaft, and Hanzo has to repress the sudden bucking of his hips. He grits his teeth, lets the pleasure wash over him, and then finds his eyes drawn to the slick slide of Gabriel inside you. 

Spread open over his hips, he has the best view of Gabriel’s impressively thick cock spearing you open over and over again. The obscene sounds of fucking fills his ears and his mouth until he drools unconsciously. Gabriel stuffs his face into your shoulder, eyes screwed shut as he tries to control the flood of sensations rushing up and down his spine from your pussy clenching and pleasuring his cock like none he’s ever known. He’s far too sensitive, far too desperate from weeks and days of tease and denial until he’s pretty much gnawing at your shoulder for relief. 

You allow the harmless nibbles that are sure to leave little marks on your skin, drowning in the headiness of making your pet lose control of his own mouth. Slowly, slowly, you rock back harder and faster until Gabriel is swearing and trembling behind you. Under you, Hanzo is much the same as his hand automatically brings him to the edge in mere minutes. 

Together, both men are writhing in place and fighting to hold their orgasms while you rush to the edge, yourself. Fucking yourself on Gabriel hard, you scratch lines down Hanzo’s impressive chest and lose yourself in pleasure as you throw yourself headlong into one of the strongest orgasms you’ve had yet. Arching your back, you squeeze down on Gabriel’s cock and Hanzo’s pec, a loud moan escaping your lips as you ride out the ripples of pleasure with a punch-drunk look on your face. 

That is enough for both men to be dragged over the edge too. Gabriel snarls and roars as he pins you against Hanzo’s chest, hips rutting uncontrollably as he fucks you into the other man’s embrace. Hanzo, too, tries to muffle his little cry as he spurts between your bodies, his cum painting yours and his skin white and slick as he bucks his hips. You, on the other hand, purr and rub your body against theirs as they try to come down from their high.

It takes a while, but finally the three of you are piled together and you let both of them nuzzle you dazedly. “So,” you quip softly, propping your elbow and angling your head so you can see them both somewhat. “Who won?”

They are still trembling slightly, but keep quiet. Gabriel’s sure that Hanzo came before he did, and conversely the archer swears that he only orgasmed once you were pinned to his chest. In such a situation, you think with a nasty grin, there is only one solution.

You peel yourself from Hanzo’s chest and slip out from under Gabriel. Positioned now between the two of them, you caress their chests.

“Since it’s a tie,” you kiss both their lips. “Let’s try again. This time, the first to beg loses.” 

Both men exchange quizzical glances before Gabriel pales when you tell him to bring the toy box. Hanzo remains clueless, but he’s sure the older man is nervous for a reason. But what could be harder than staving off an orgasm?

Well, they’ll beg sooner or later when their third and fourth orgasms crash into them, but you’ll see who has the better control over their mouth.


	48. McCree - Sit In Your Lap (Part 2)

McCree curls his metal arm around your hips, gentle and supportive, draws you closer until you’re bracing your forearms on his broad chest. “Mmm boss,” he moans softly and buries his nose into your hair. “You smell so good.”

Amusement and affection suffuses you and you smile, tweaking his nipple when he blows into your ear teasingly. “Bet you smell even better when I’ve got myself all over you, though,” that thick twang turns dark with seduction and desire, resounding with the lust thrumming through your still clothed body. 

“Will you, now?” Is your answer and you lean over to grab a set of nipple clamps from the drawer behind him. 

His pace on his cock stutters at the sight and the cowboy moans filthily, “Fuck yeah, boss.” Though his hand is dry he manages to make his strokes count, playing with his foreskin and slipping it over his head again and again. 

“Spit on your cock, baby.” He obeys and drools over his tip, adding to the small dribble of precum that beads and trails over his now shiny tip. “Good boy.”

He moans at your praise and then groans when you get his nipple nice and taut by flicking at them over and over again. Little known secret - McCree’s nipples are incredibly sensitive. You’ve made him cum just by playing with the little nubs more than once. The clamps are heavy when they finally pinch his sensitive flesh, pulling on his skin and bringing a flush to his dusky skin. 

“Mmmmfuck they feel so good~” he throws his head back as you tug on them hard, your other hand on his wrist to guide him harder and faster on his needy cock. When you pull on the chain connecting the clamps, they pinch harder and harder the further you pull, drawing grunts and groans out of your handsome boy until he’s panting through gritted teeth.

“I’m gonna-!” he yelps and squeezes hard on the tip of his cock to try and stop himself from cumming. His hips squirm and his thigh shakes as he struggles to keep his foot from slipping, to accidentally drop you on the ground. His metal hand isn’t as expressive as his human one as it obeys your insistent hand on his wrist, but it grips at your hip with enough pressure that you’re sure bruises would form. 

“Cum for me,” you purr and remove the clamps just as his eyes roll into the back of his head. 

“Fuck!” his low voice jumps several octaves when he cries out, hips gyrating and hand pumping desperately on his cock as he cums hard. “FUCK!” The pain of blood rushing back into his aching nipples just rockets his orgasm to a new high and he almost arches off the chair. His pearly seed shoots up onto his chest and belly, painting his lickable abs and pecs white. Still he strokes himself with progressively gentler passes, squeezing hard at his head to milk every drop out of himself. 

McCree slumps in the chair, barely noticing you trailing your finger through the mess on his skin, spreading it onto his hair and clumping the fur together in a sticky mess. His cock, throbbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm, flags a little but impressively stays half hard, only stiffening more when you put the clamps back on his nipples. 

“Wha-? No, no boss, no!” he hisses when you get up and pull him upright in order to settle in his lap, your bottoms and underwear mysteriously gone and allowing your heat to press into his balls and base of his cock. 

You tug on the chain and giggle at how every pull jerks his cock back to its hard, throbbing state. Stroking it momentarily with one hand, you raise yourself up and drop onto his thick cock with a soft groan, one that’s drowned out by his sobbing whimper. 

Sometimes nipple clamps are even more effective than a collar and leash for him - he jolts up when you jerk it especially hard. Those dark, unfocused eyes blink at you dazedly and you smirk when he starts to plead with you to stop. 

“Keep going.”


	49. Ana - Naughty Nurse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part of my new prompt fills that I've done on my blog. Super short but hopefully just as sexy as my longer pieces.

You’re not the most careful of operatives, you have to admit. But you don’t think it warrants the sniper’s ‘special treatment’. 

She tuts at you from between your legs, mouth wet from where she’s been administering her tried and tested pain reliever. You struggle, frustrated from the number of times she’s edged you. Your wrists and ankles are sore from rubbing against the velcro straps and you tell her so, whining that she didn’t have to restrain you in order to get what she wants. 

Ana clicks her tongue again and continues to work at you until your back arches in pleasure. “These old bones couldn’t possibly be able to hold you down if you struggle,” she leers at you, smiling when you snarl at her that she’ll regret this once you’re out of the hospital wing. 

Laughing at your threat, though she’s sure you’ll fuck her up once you get your hands on her, she shuffles up to your head and hikes up her nurse scrubs, “Open up, I need to give you your medicine orally.”


	50. Genji - I'll keep the remote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of sexual humiliation for naughty young gengu

“You’re going to put that inside of you and I’m going to keep the remote and give you pleasure whenever I feel like it. Maybe even tomorrow when you’re having that meeting you’ve been planning for the past week.” Fuck, he loves you so much.

It’s a good thing that the majority of his clan thinks he’s a shameless playboy and hedonist. After all, not only is it true, but it’s the only way he can get away with things like wearing a vibrating butt plug to a meeting with a local drug dealer. For some reason, a few of his enemies think that it’s frightening how he’s so willing to come to a meeting while cum-drunk - something about being fearless and daring and some bullshit that Genji doesn’t quite care to remember.

He sits gingerly and crosses his legs, something that the dealer is grateful for. Those tight pants that the younger Shimada son wears leaves nothing to the imagination, and that’s discounting the wet spot forming on it. 

“Get to the point, quickly now,” Genji drawls and waves his hand, his body twitching every so often. God, this plug is amazing, he thinks with a slightly hazed mind even as he listens to the dealer talk about his bottom line and some protection fee. 

The dealer is twitchy as well, though for an entirely different reason. He sputters and repeats himself while Genji remains ever calm despite the burning of pleasure in his gut and his crotch. The stark difference remains when the dealer is finally dismissed with a careless flick of the wrist, leaving the dealer alone in the room while Genji and his posse of bodyguards exit the building. 

They escort him to his car, leaving him to climb inside shakily on his own. And when the door closes behind him, the ninja rests gingerly on one buttcheek and turns to see you watching him with a mischievous glint in your eye and a remote in your hand. 

“Had a good meeting, my sparrow?” you purr, cranking the dial on the remote higher just as the car lurches forward. He falls onto the plug and arches his back with a high pitched moan when it jabs directly at his prostate. 

“Fuck! Ohfuckohfuckohfuck-” he whimpers and writhes his hips on the leather seats, legs spreading as wide as they can in his tight pants. The wet stain on his crotch grows larger and larger, turning the fabric almost transparent when Genji cums with a startled yelp. He rubs his thighs desperately, trying not to touch his over sensitive cock, trying to ride the crest of his slowly dying orgasm without falling onto the floor. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” your smile turns diabolic as you gently dab at the spot, pretending to help him clean up. Your sparrow chokes back a loud groan and grips you tight, unfocused eyes trying and failing to clear up.


	51. Genji - Smile for the camera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sexual humiliation piece for young gengu

“I didn’t realise you were such a slut, my green dragon,” you purr and bounce on him, hands crawling along his lightly tanned, toned body until you encircle them around his neck. 

He smirks up at you, disheveled green hair only mussing more when he tilts his head to press further into your grip. “Life is short and meaningless without the pleasures of the flesh,” he hisses and braces his legs so as to thrust up into you at your command. “And the pleasures of the flesh,” he continues with a moan when you press against the underside of his jaw, making him see stars even as he whispers out the rest of his sentence, “is nothing compared to the thrill of the forbidden.”

You laugh at the sweet yet odd poetry he spouts, your hips never ceasing their undulation even when he starts to grip your ass in an iron grip. He’s still gasping and purring from the constriction of your hands with a slack grin on his face, his cock throbbing inside you in tempo with the weak waves of the orgasm that suddenly sneaks up on you. 

It is only when your mind clears slightly that you remember that you’re not exactly alone. You bare your teeth at him and you dig your nails into the sides of his unprotected neck, “And nothing is more forbidden than a son of the Shimada whoring himself out on camera, is there?”

He rumbles, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and mumbles, “Fuck yes.”

“You look so good being fucked,” you purr out, echoing a comment that you read off of a screen nearby. “Now smile for the camera.” Genji laughs breathlessly and cums at that moment, arching off the bed and letting his lips spread into a smile of ecstasy. 

“Perfect.”


	52. Genji - Free Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji is your pet cyborg assassin. Sometimes he snaps and that's ok

“Are you disappointed in me?” Genji whispers quietly, face downcast as he kneels before you. He is coated in blood, coagulated flecks of it chipping off of him as he reaches up to shuck his faceplate and helmet. The proud ninja looks cowed before you, shamed eyes locked on your boots instead of your face as he normally does. 

You close your eyes at the carnage and move to his shoulder, where you grip him hard to tug him to his feet. “Get up,” you murmur quietly, pulling him away from the carnage and into your waiting drop ship. It’s heavy - the silence between the two of you, only relenting when the doors slam shut behind you and the engines whine as the ship jets the two of you back to your compound.

Genji is mum and doesn’t make an effort to break the silence, instead opting to sprawl against your legs. To bury his head against your belly as though to hide from the world. His ‘breathing’ evens out, soothing you and your own frayed nerves as you consider why he fears your disappointment. But even as you contemplate it, you don’t say a word until you have him safely ensconced in your personal quarters.

“I’m not disappointed in you,” your whispered words make him finally raise his dark eyes to yours, his body pliant as you tug him under the spray of your shower to clean him off. You know he doesn’t like you touching him when he’s still covered in gore, so you turn around to leave him to clean himself. 

Much to your surprise, he stops you with a gentle hand on your wrist. The usually snarky assassin has his jaw clenched tight, though his grip remains loose as he pulls you in with him, clothes and all. You resign yourself to your wet clothes and shuck them quickly, while Genji activates the pressure jets that remove most of the blood and bits off of him in the time it takes for you to strip to your skin.

Now bare and wet as he is, you mould yourself to his back and hug him securely. The mobile pieces of his armour shift and press against you harshly, but both you and he ignore it as Genji leans back into you with an empty sigh. It is a while before either of you speak, and this time it’s Genji who cracks first.

“I should not have lost control.” His eyes are mournful as he turns around to look at you. “I should not have- You should have put that chip into me.” He speaks of the one thing that would make him a true cyborg assassin, the perfect tool for any who seek to use it. The one thing that would turn a human into a soulless machine with the press of a button.

You close your eyes mournfully and touch your forehead to his. “And what would that achieve?” 

Genji swallows thickly and buries his head into the sodden crown of your head.

“I have no use for a collar that takes away the decision to serve me, to stay loyal to me.” Your words make his lips twitch ever so slightly, and upon seeing it, your own mirror it. “You obey me because you want to.” You kiss his scarred brow, caress the scratched surface of his back and armour. “You better yourself because you want to.” Your kisses descend until they press against his trembling ones. “You work to please me because it pleases you too.”

A soft whimper is muffled against your mouth and you sigh peacefully, feeling his arms circle around you until you’re engulfed in his strong embrace. “That chip is like a choke chain,” you hiss, digging your fingers into his waist until he can feel it through the synthetic flesh. “And I don’t need a choke chain, do I?”

Genji moans gently and pulls away from you with a misty stare and a tremulous, fragile smile on his face. “No,” he breathes, dropping down to his knees before you. “No.”

Your hand travels over his brow and slicks back his hair. “I don’t need that chip. You pulled yourself out of that bloodlust the moment I told you to. That you lost control means nothing to me, only that you obey me no matter the state you’re in.”

A look of understanding and peace falls across your assassin’s scarred, handsome features, and he presses a kiss against your wrist reverently. “By your will,” he moans, his palm covering your other hand as it descends to cup his jaw lovingly, “I am yours. Forever.”


	53. Genji - Ahegao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sexual humiliation piece for Genji

“You don’t mind if I take some photos of you like this, do you, kitty?” you tease him as your camera goes off. 

Genji gurgles in response, though you think it’s more because of the dildo fucking his ass than anything you said. You sit astride his hips, enjoying the feel of his half hard cock spasming within you with every thrust of the machine. The twin sensations make Genji arch his back and strain against his binds with a cry, tears and drool dampening his face and the pillow under his head.

A giggle escapes your lips at the blissed out expression on his face, knowing that no one else would see this side of him. Not this side of him that is so happy to have their mouth jammed open with a spider gag, to be fucked to the point where he can’t articulate a single word. This is the side of him that only uses his bedroom eyes to beg for mercy, this side of him that readily degrades himself for your pleasure and amusement.

His tongue rolls out of his mouth at a particular thrust of the dildo in his ass, mild gags and coughs the only sounds emanating from him as he tries to swallow his saliva so he can breathe. It makes you smile, the confusion and hazy desire in his eyes, and you snap another photo. 

“Now trace the alphabet in the air for me, will you?”


	54. Genji - Lap Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where he gives you a lap dance.

One good thing about having Genji for a lover is that he’s usually down for anything your twisted mind comes up with. Like when you instruct him to put on a show for you, he not only goes along with you, but takes it and runs with it for the full nine yards.

How he manages to make the act of stripping out of his sweats and hoodie look so seductive, you have no idea. He tosses the articles of clothing aside, his mask and helm following soon after. Gyrating and moving to the beat of the music you have blaring in the background, he secures his favourite dildo to the chair in between your legs and smirks at you.

“No touching,” he says breathlessly, unlatching his crotch guard. It’s a hell of a request, but you did ask him to put on the show, and so you grip the seat under you. 

His cock bounces out, already half hard and leaking. It doesn’t need his touch to thicken, only your gaze and the prospect of what he’s going to do for you. Genji moans and sits on your lap, grinding his erection against the silicon dildo and teasing you with fleeting touches of his wandering hands. Lube is snatched up, opened, and drizzled over both his cock and the dildo. He slicks both cocks up with his hands and by sliding them together, the resulting sound making you swear at him.

He laughs, kisses you, and taunts you as he starts to work on spreading his ass. Didn’t you wish you could touch him, wish you could drive him insane through fucking him? Dirty fantasies start to spill from his lips as he decides he’s ready for the dildo, as he angles the tip into his hole. Bit by bit, he descends upon the thick cock, his voice turning breathier with every inch that disappears inside him.

But by now, you’re starting to lose your patience. In one swift move, you have one hand around the back of his neck and the other clamping down on his hip. He gasps in surprise, his body already struggling, but you mercilessly yank him down until his ass meets the chair under you and his balls are pressed flush against your crotch. Genji lets out a strangled scream and arches his back at the sudden flash of pleasure and pain, and croaks out a ‘why’. 

With a smirk, you claim his lips and start to force him to ride you. You can go along with his little game another time, right now, you want to destroy his hole.


	55. Genji - You look too good from behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you guys don't like the kitty-Genji thing that has been popping up in my Genji writings :p I like it though so it's here to stay (I've been convinced by Demial's Kitty Kompanion that Genji's a cat in human form)

You’re admittedly not a fan of physical contact, so it’s rare that you meet someone else who has the same level of aversion to touch as you do. And goddammit it’s just your luck that you really really want to keep touching that person. 

Genji is that fucking person. Even after he makes his peace with his body and his fate, there’s still that little part of him that shies away from touch - as though he feels like he’d dirty them. It takes months, but he comes to not only allow you to touch him, but he learns to seek you out as well. Zenyatta approves of it, partakes in it himself when he can although on a platonic level.

Of course, you’re far from just platonic touching - trust me it took a long time for you to coax the ninja into it. These days though, you just stick to holding hands, because if you can’t grope his pecs and shoulders, his hand will have to do. Genji humours you most of the time, lacing his fingers into yours and pulling it against his chest to cradle it. Sometimes he brings it up to his face as though to kiss it, forgetting that his mask is still securely fastened to his helmet. He’s squished your knuckles like that a few times, but you let it go once you see his body squirm in embarrassment and apology.

Some days, though…

Some days, you just can’t resist. Like today.

“M-master, what are you doing?” he stiffens up in your grasp, his torso and head swivelling enough so he can look at you over his broad shoulder. 

You, on the other hand, just grin, catlike, and knead at what is in your hands. “What do you mean, what am I doing?” Come on, Genji, say it!

The ninja clears his throat and his hands drop from where they’ve shot up to his chest. “Why are you groping my ass?” his usually deep voice is squeaky and higher pitched than normal, turning even higher when you angle your hands so your fingers are teasing the seam of his crotch and inner thigh.

You giggle and purr at him, rolling your body and hips against him, rubbing all over him until Genji has to turn and hug you to pin your arms to your waist. “Master,” he narrows his eyes at you through the visor.

Snapping your teeth at him, you pull your arms out of his weak grasp and wrap it around so you can get back to playing with that bubble butt of his. “You know I love to hold your hand, right, kitty?”

You can almost see him roll his eyes, you certainly hear it though. “That’s not my hand, master,” he sighs but arches his back to push those fleshy globes further into your grasp anyway, secretly loving the feel of your expert touch.

“No it’s not,” you grin and kiss the underside of his jaw. “But today you just look too good from behind. I couldn’t resist.” 

Finally deciding to play along, Genji pouts at you and nuzzles your cheek gently to avoid scratching you with the metal mask. “You mean I don’t look good from behind every day, master?”

Your nails dig into his ass and you hear his crystal clear whimper of pleasure. “Cheeky kitty.”


	56. Genji - Record yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major kitty Genji so just be warned if you don't like it

“I want you to record yourself masturbating and then you’re going to send it to me so I can decide if it’s good enough to put online. Now don’t disappoint me.” Your text reached his phone hours ago and he’s read it countless times, enough that it’s almost seared into his brain at this point.

Genji has performed for you many a time, often naked, sometimes with another participant, but always with you in the room. Now, he finds himself blushing with shame and…something else as he prostrates himself before the camera, arching his back in that way that he knows you love. With sinuous movements, he slides back to sit on his knees with his fists planted on the bed between his thighs.

“Master,” he whimpers.

The bell on his collar tinkles gently with every move he makes and he blushes hotly at the sound, at how he looks like to any viewer. Submissive, vulnerable, so eager to please and ready to be fucked into oblivion. He turns around and gets on all fours again and sticks out his ass, spreading his cheeks to reveal the jewel studded plug he has embedded in his slutty hole. It glistens with lube, shining in the bright light and drawing attention to his puffy ring. 

“Mmm, master, my plug slides in so easily after you fucked me today,” Genji moans, teasing the sensitive skin with a light touch, feeling the ache from how hard you railed into him not an hour ago. “I wish I could keep myself open for you all the time, plugged up and ready to be used.”

His cock bobs when he slides down to brace his chest on the bed so he can reach back to jerk his cock with one hand and toy with the plug using the other. He gyrates to the deep thrum of the music he has playing in the background, stroking his cock to the beat and showing off how heavy his balls are and how the muscles on his ass and back flex as he starts to build his pleasure.

“Can I use the stroker, Master?” Panting and groaning interrupts him and he squirms, trying to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been such a good kitty, can I please?”

Lube quickly comes into play and so does a clear stroker, the angle of the camera and his body forcing him onto his back so there’s a clear view to his now glistening cock. The jewel of the plug bobs as his ass clenches on it with every stroke of the toy, the bumps and ridges and bristles easily taking him to the edge. Genji’s soft moans thank you and he spreads his legs wide into the air to display all of him. 

“Oh, Master, I wish you could fuck me right now.” His hand is ceaseless in its pumping on his cock and his plug slips out accidentally from how hard he clenches on it. Genji slips it back in and fucks himself with it, whining for your touch and your monster dildo to fill him. “Mmm, you’ve trained me too well, Master. This little plug doesn’t do anything for me now. I want your cock so fucking bad, oh please fuck me!” 

Bracing his legs on the bed, he starts to fuck up into the stroker and onto the plug like a madman, moaning and whimpering and sobbing for your permission to cum. But when it doesn’t, he cries out in frustration and stills his shaking hips forcefully, “Master, please let me cum! I’ll be such a good kitty, I swear. Haven’t I done a good job, Master? Oh please-”

And yet, the camera remains silent and Genji writhes on the bed with denied orgasm. He can’t cum, but he still has to try. He can’t disappoint you after all.


	57. Hanzo - Bend over and smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Civilian AU for this sexual humiliation piece. I can see Hanzo being this catty IRL too lmao

You’ve known for a while that your neighbour has been lusting after Hanzo. Your archer suspects it, though he’s sure that nothing will ever come of it. You, though, know better - after all, they signed up for your dragon’s archery lessons even when they have zero interest in the sport. Of course, you don’t think they’ll have the balls to try and schmooze up to him, not when you’re as intimidating as your lover.

Your possessiveness amuses and arouses Hanzo, and while he will never do anything to truly break your trust, he does flirt with danger when he stirs up that side of you. 

“The curtains are always open,” he says to you one day as you’re lounging on the sofa with him. “Do you think they watch me through it? Hoping that they catch my attention?”

You freeze, your eyes slowly roving over to him with an unreadable emotion that makes him swallow thickly. Your book is set down in due course and you gently tangle your fingers in his hair to draw him close. “Are you trying to make me jealous, Hanzo?” you murmur, an edge to your tone. “We both know that you will never give them that satisfaction.”

He smiles slowly, coyly, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Will I?” Fingers tighten in his hair and Hanzo has to quickly bite down on a moan before it slips from his lips. I got you, he smirks internally when you haul him up by the hair and drag him to the very window he’s been talking about.

You rip off his shirt and his sweats impatiently, growling in his ear, “ Bend over the windowsill so I can fuck you and you can look outside and smile at the neighbour.” His cock bounces against his belly as he complies and spreads his legs open in eagerness, his thighs trembling as he feels you grope gently at his balls and ass. 

He watches you in the reflection of the glass, uncaring if your neighbour actually sees the both of you or not. But he has to try and rile you up anyway, just because he can. And because he wants a fucking so rough that he can’t walk tomorrow. “And if they’re watching?” he groans as you wrap your hands around his neck and his cock at the same time.

“Then they can fucking watch and wish they were me,” you hiss and clamp down on his throat, feeling more than hearing the moan that wheezes past his lips. That day, Hanzo indeed gets his wish and has to call out of work in the morning, cancelling his archery class. The bruises and marks on him don’t fade when he does stumble into the range to start his lessons, and while he takes the ribbing from his colleagues like a good sport, it’s all worth it when your neighbour shows up to class with a red face and a refusal to speak to him or even have eye contact.

Hanzo smirks inwardly and wonders if he can convince you to do that again.


	58. Hanzo - Dominating Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roleplayed dub-con in this one

“I don’t think I’ve had this much trouble taming a man before,” you hum, sitting on the young Shimada heir’s back. Wrenching his wrists behind his back, you tie them quickly and cinch them to the chest harness you managed to wrangle onto him before. 

The dragon prince snarls at you and jerks to the side, dislodging you off his back. He rolls away and scrambles to his knees, dark eyes wild with fire and fury meeting cooler ones that are oh so smug. Jerking and struggling to free his hands prove fruitless, as he finds out, with every pull pressing against the hollow of his collarbone painfully. 

Rather than trying to wrestle him to the ground again, you merely get to your feet and prowl over to him, watching him try and balance himself to get off his knees. “Need a hand there, Shimada-dono?” you purr his title in mockery as you pull out another length of rope, finding the bight and snapping the cotton idly. 

His eyes flicker up to yours and you can almost feel the blades he shoots at you from his eyes. “You mock me,” he hisses and staggers to his feet, his gaze darting around for something to cut his bonds with. There’s no way he’s running out of the hotel suite in this state. 

You almost laugh at the helplessness in his rigid form, though instead you just tackle him to the ground and throw him onto his belly again. “Tsk tsk, still so mouthy, brat.” This time, you catch his ankles and tether them in a double column knot, humming at your handiwork as you fight his incredible strength to pull his feet as far up his rear as possible. “Just chill here for a second, alright?”

Hanzo roars at you, struggling anew to try and stop you from knotting the remaining stretch of rope to the chest harness. But for all his power, he ends up squirming in place as you finally get him into a hog tie. Muscles begin to strain and he stops yelling to take several deep breaths that end up in frustrated whimpers. “Enough!” he hiccups. “Enough. Kill me if you must.” He will not stand for this humiliation a moment longer.

You’re amused by the sudden change in character, and while you consider his plea, you decide to dismiss it. “Kill you?” you murmur, spreading his knees and tying those out and to the sides as far as he can stand it. “That would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” Now with the softest parts of him exposed, you rip his pants and underwear away and start to fondle him like you’ve been waiting to do this whole time. 

The yakuza heir simply chokes back a sob and presses his lips shut to stop anymore humiliating sounds from escaping. He can’t deny the pleasure that zips through him at your masterful touch, nor can he deny the watering of his mouth when you come around and pull his head into your damp warmth. The scent and smell and touch of you fills his senses and Hanzo growls as he tries to fight it off, tries to fight to retain his sanity.

But in the end, he has no choice but to give up. To surrender.


	59. Hanzo - Not for another week

Chastity is something of a punishment for the both of you, you think as you ride Hanzo’s magnificent cock with a satisfied smile on your face. He doesn’t get to touch his cock, but neither do you, and that’s the best part of him aside from his hands and his mouth and his tongue and- well. You miss his cock, simple as that. Of course you let him out every night just to tease him for your sadistic amusement, but he doesn’t get the pleasure of your pussy except on the weekend.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this cock,” you moan and dig your nails into his chest as you rock your hips back and forth. “So perfect,” at your lustful groan he whimpers and tugs you down to his chest so he can kiss you with desperation dripping from his lips, “Made just for me.”

“Will you-” Hanzo licks his lips and clears his hoarse throat, “Will you let me cum tonight?”

The hope and desire in his eyes is intoxicating, the scrambling hands and hungry mouth on your body driving your pleasure to its tipping point. With a fulfilled cry, you orgasm and rut yourself against his cock to prolong your long awaited pinnacle, reveling in his tortured pleas as you slowly come to a halt.

“No! No no don’t stop-” 

You slick your hair back and lift yourself off of him despite his iron grip, raising your hand to clamp down on his throat until he lets go. “Poor baby,” you coo without remorse as you watch him inch back from that blissful edge. He’s red in the face with frustration, his jaw stiff from clenching his teeth so tightly and the tendons in his neck are so pronounced as he watches you stroke his cock tenderly. 

“Please?” he begs breathlessly in Japanese, tears starting to well up in his eyes as he spots you dragging over a bowl of iced water with your free hand. 

“Nah uh,” you shake your head and tap his nose mockingly. “Look at you being all flustered.” Hanzo also starts to shake his head, although so does his body in a full-bodied tremble. “I’m sorry, but you’re allowed to cum for another week, at least,” your innocent grin is punctuated by his quiet sobs as you gently ice down his cock so you can fit it back into its cage.

“But-but it’s been a month!” A month since his last proper orgasm. A month of slowly driving himself insane with desire and want and you.

“Too bad. But since you’re so eager, let’s make that two weeks. How about it?”


	60. Hanzo - Count to ten

Hanzo moans breathlessly as he watches your deft fingers unlock the padlock to his cage. His cock throbs at the sight, already leaking precum like a leaky faucet, and his balls twitch when you spread lube all over it. The slick slide of your fingers drive him further into madness and he starts to beg you in a drunken whine.

“Are-are you-?” his voice is hopeful when you set the cage aside, that deep baritone pitching higher when blood rushes to his once caged cock. He doesn’t think his cock has inflated this quickly and with this much pleasure and he says as much to you, his eyes quickly hazing over when just the touch of your finger has him arching towards you in search of more.

You grin and spread your palms over his ripped abs and pillowy pecs in a hypnotising yet calming motion, allowing Hanzo to settle minutely under you, though his chest still heaves with his heavy pants.

“So, here’s how we’re going to do this,” you start quietly, rubbing his inner thighs and leaving his red, throbbing cock alone for now. “When I count to 10, you’re going to cum. If you cum before that, we’ll try again until you cum on 10. If you don’t cum when I count to 10, I’m going to edge you until you do. Understood?”

He squeezes his eyes closed and nods weakly, his large, bow roughened hands closing around your knees to ground himself. His tortured expression makes you giggle and you lean forward to let your hair tickle his tender skin in a tease. 

“Ready or not,” you breathe eagerly, closing your hands around his cock and balls and smearing the lube all over him. “Here we go.” Hanzo cries out immediately and curls up as best he can, his legs shifting and hitching up at the sheer oversensitivity of his cock. 

“One.” Your archer swears through clenched teeth and throws himself back on the bed. 

“Two.” Already his cock starts to leak even more, rivulets of lube and precum mixing into a white slurry that slicks along his skin, creating such slick sounds that Hanzo whimpers and blushes. 

“Three~” His hips buck and twitch and dance under you, almost dislodging you from your perch and you grin at how he can’t even control his body now.

“Four~” Hanzo is squirming and crying now, his reddened face damp with sweat and tears and drool and-

“Fi-” 

He yelps and roars, “I can’t-!” His cock swells incomprehensibly larger under your grip and almost twitches out of your hand, cum spewing and spurting in cadence with the thrashing of his body. Animalistic growls and groans greet your ears as you continue to pump and twist despite his white cum joining the river of fluids already trailing down his body. 

“Please! Please no-! St-sto-”

“Well, let’s try again. One~”


	61. Hanzo - Swimsuits and changing rooms

The new Overwatch is very different from the old organisation, you think, watching as Winston and Lena usher everyone onto the beach. It’ll be fun, they said. It’ll be nice to see what kind of bathing suits everyone wears, Hana said. It’ll be nice to have the rest of the young agents bothering someone other than you, you said.

And Hanzo really doesn’t want to wear a swimsuit of any kind, he said. Too bad, literally everyone said, and convinced McCree and Genji to force the archer into something. 

Now you just expect him to turn up in a pair of cutoff shorts or swim trunks or something, but apparently your dragon isn’t that lucky. He skulks over to you with his head down between his shoulders, trying to hide his bare legs behind you as the rest of the team charges ahead onto the pristine sands. 

You laugh and snap the elastic band of his speedos and grope his ass, “My my, your brother has taste.”

Hanzo snarls at you in a disgruntled fashion, “This does not cover anything!” He snatches your wrap and knots it around his waist. 

Unwilling to be deterred, you grin and lock your arm around his neck to drag him off to a building - changing rooms from the look of it. He sputters when you push him into a cubicle and rip the fabric away from him, revealing his impressive bulge and well built thighs. The cut of the speedo is flattering to his muscled physique, allowing his adonis belt to draw attention to his growing erection.

He blushes at your inspection but does not cover himself, just as you trained him, and instead falls into a parade rest. Bowing his head, Hanzo clears his throat nervously, “Do I not look ridiculous?”

A grope at his ass, a squeeze of his now half hard cock, and you grin lecherously at him, “Not at all.”

(A few moments later)

Hanzo pants against your cheek, feeling so exposed in the small scrap of fabric masquerading as swimwear. He curses and praises his friend and his brother for forcing him into such a thing, because while he feels far too embarrassed to be dressed as such in public, you’re so clearly loving the access it grants you.

He struggles to keep his noises to himself, it wouldn’t do to be caught while in a cubicle in the women’s changing room. It’s hard though, especially since he’s so used to voicing everything he feels. Luckily for him, you understand his plight and clamp a hand over his mouth.

“Try not to draw attention, my dragon,” you purr into his ear and push him onto the small bench in the cubicle. It holds his weight and you drop to your knees, mouthing his cock through the thin fabric. Hanzo sighs at the feeling, his flesh already escaping from the speedo from how hard he is. Trembling and yearning for your mouth, he shifts his hips closer to you to beg for it.

You grin, nosing aside the fabric. He’s magnificent, perhaps even more so because he’s framed by the royal blue of his swimwear. 

“Don’t tease me,” he grumbles from under your hand, then tenses when you take him down into your throat. A high pitched whine escapes him, followed by pants when your mouth and tongue massages him just so. He’s trembling now, hands clutching your shoulders, your forearms, your hair, anything to anchor him so that he won’t float off into heaven. 

You break away and suck his balls into your mouth with a grin, relishing in his choked cries. “Be quiet, Hanzo,” you nibble at the skin on his inner thigh. “Don’t want to get caught, now do we?” 

You only get a whimper in reply, made even louder by your lips on his throbbing cock.


	62. Hanzo - Begging

“Tell me to stop,” you whisper into his sweaty cheek, your hand slipping and sliding all over his oversensitive cock.

Hanzo gasps, his throat bobbing as he tries to choke out something to say. “P-puh-” he starts but then gurgles when you squeeze the tip of his cock mercilessly, forcing another dry orgasm out of his wrung out body. “Please stop,” he rasps out in Japanese, his mind devoid of the capacity to translate it into English.

You giggle and slip a cock sleeve on his flagging appendage, twisting and bobbing it as you nibble at his ear. “What was that? I couldn’t hear you. Say it again.”

“Please!” another gurgle, another cough. “Please stop.”

“Again.”

“Mistress, please-” Hanzo bites out through his tears and drool and presses his temple into your cheek. “Have mercy, mistress. I ca-can’t-”

You hum, hand slowing as you consider his growing stutters and disjointed sentences - all with the words ‘please’ and ‘mistress’ and ‘mercy’. “I like you begging,” you purr and slip the sleeve off, only to rub the head of his red and weeping cock on your clit and proceed to sheathe him within you. “Do it again.”


	63. Hanzo - That piercing

“Show me,” you whisper into his ear, your eyelashes brushing against the heated skin of his cheek. Your archer swallows thickly under you, his throat shifting under palm of you hand. He complies with shaking hands; belt, button, then fly coming undone in a slow tease.

Bit by bit, his flesh is revealed, his dark happy trail like an arrow that leads to the greatest of your treasures. Skin, darker than that of his belly, peeks out from under the layers of his underwear that is shed in due course. He starts to pant at your intent gaze on the most tender part of him, struggles not to cover himself from you. You want to see all of him, he thinks and shoves his pants down his thighs, so he will give you all of him. 

It is revealed then, his little gift to you, and you coo at it and him with a gleeful smile, “Oh lord, yes.” 

Hanzo blushes at your words, folding his arms behind his back to let you move him as you wish. Half hard and already swelling in your grip, his cock is as beautiful as ever with its foreskin sliding slightly with every movement of your fingers. Something bulbs from his tip, shiny and foreign and you lick your lips at your discovery when you pull back the hood. A prince albert piercing gleams dully from the head of his cock, drawing your gaze and your lips closer to his aching tip.

Whimpering, he bucks his hips slightly, enough to rouse your attention. “Do-do you like it?” he pants, eyes shuttering from your touch on his needy cock. He hasn’t seen you for what feels like ages but is in fact just two months, hasn’t had your touch in just as long. 

You grin, kissing a wet line down the side of his cock and drinking in his desperate moans and whispers of your name. “I like it so much, I just can’t stop staring at it.” 

“Good,” he breathes through gritted teeth, shifting his legs to spread them as much as he can. 

“Why not any other kind of piercing, though?” the question slips out between questing little licks and sucks that scramble his brain enough to warrant a whimper of ‘stop’.

Hanzo gathers his scattering thoughts and answers you quietly, with a blush blooming on his handsome features. “You like it when I fuck you from behind,” he starts and is interrupted by your nails digging into his thigh. “I heard that-that these piercings enhance the pleasure given to a woman when-!” The archer throws his head back when you swallow his cock as far down your throat as you can. “Master!”

You come up for air after what feels like a lifetime to the both of you, spittle leaking from your lips and dripping onto his throbbing cock and slick ring. A greedy grin crosses your lips and you get to your feet. “Fuck. You look and sound too hot. Strip and get on the bed,” you begin throwing your clothes off as fast as you can manage, mirroring Hanzo’s own frantic movements. “I wanna see if that’s true.”


	64. Hanzo - No, don't sit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll get on my knees

“No, don’t sit,” Hanzo’s voice interrupts your journey to your favourite armchair. 

“No?” you raise a brow. 

He licks his lips and slowly backs you into the wall, stopped only by your hand rising to his muscled chest. “I’ll get on my knees,” his voice is but a whisper as he slowly descends onto one knee, then the other, his hands drifting up to settle by your thighs in askance.

How interesting. Out of curiosity, you oblige him and lean against the wall, spreading your thighs. His eyes flash and you spot his bulge twitch as he scoots closer, his gentle hands helping you hook one knee over his broad shoulders. 

“You’d better not drop me, my dragon,” you warn him with an amused tilt to your lips, eager to see how this goes. Hanzo has always boasted of the strength in his upper body but you’ve never truly seen it in action.

“Never, my master,” he bows his head and pins one hugely muscled arm over your thighs and hips to brace you, then slides his hand over your other leg. “May I?”

At this point in your relationship, there is little you will deny your lover and you trust wholly in his confidence. With his help, you swing your other leg up and over his free shoulder, now truly suspended in mid-air with only the archer between you and a painful fall.

He smiles at you and kisses your uncovered mound, his beard tickling you as he thanks you quietly. With his solid presence now beneath you, Hanzo appreciates your pussy as its spread under his chin and he dips his head ever so slightly to take you into his mouth.

As always, he knows exactly how to use his born talents and quickly drives you to your edge. His hands drift up to cup your breasts with your guiding touch and you squirm on his shoulders. Tugging his hair is akin to tugging on his reins or his collar and he obeys you, nibbling and sucking and kissing until you growl out your completion. 

Even through the throes of your orgasm and your resulting writhing, he remains sure and solid beneath you, his powerful arms easily balancing you even as you arch your back off the wall. Your orgasm subsides and dwindles away, yet Hanzo keeps his lips on you to drink up your essence in a gentle motion, keeping the embers of your desire stoked while you cool down.

When you push back the tousled fringe of his hair, he tilts his head to look back at you with shining eyes and slick covering his lower face, “Did I meet your expectations, my master?”

Looking at him beneath you, so earnest and eager for your approval and your pleasure, you purr in satisfaction and bury both hands into his hair to massage and scrape at his scalp. He moans at your touch and leans in closer, those long lashes fluttering, and you grin.

“I need a second evaluation in order to come to a fair conclusion, dragon,” you quip, crossing your ankles behind his back and drawing him ever closer. “Once more.”

“Yes, master.” His grin is blinding, as is the flash of pleasure behind your eyes as he buries himself in your warmth again.


	65. Roadhog - Dominance (Part 3)

The next morning brings some level of clarity for you. Maybe the shock of waking in a familiar yet unfamiliar room helped hammer it in that nothing’s the same. Your eyes are still puffy, your head still aching with the remnants of your cry session, and your wrist twinges with pain with you move it to wipe at your eyes. 

Fuck. This fucking sucks, you think to yourself as you curl in the strangely small bed and bury your head into the sheets and the stale smelling pillow. You haven’t been in your original barracks for what seems like forever and everything smells dusty and stale since you didn’t have the time nor the energy to clean anything up last night before you passed out. 

Still, nothing for it now but to try and pull yourself together. You can’t afford to fall apart when you still have a job (of sorts) to do. Winston didn’t hire you to hide in your room and cry when you feel like it. It motivates you to trudge to the bathroom to wash up and you shiver slightly from the morning chill as you wash up. You’re so unaccustomed to waking to a cold, small bed and part of you misses him so much. His warmth, his size and the safety he gives you. Like nothing can hurt you while he’s there. 

You rub at your chest at the thought of him and how you miss his presence. Tears build at the back of your eyes when you think about what he said, what he looked like, like...like he was so disgusted he couldn’t even look at you. You can take that look from anyone, even your old trainer Jack Morrison, but never him. Never the one who-

“Motherfucker!” you roar and punch the wall, toothbrush clattering into the basin as you try to compose yourself and force the tears back. Enough. You’ve cried enough. Enough. Fighting to stay calm, you pick the toothbrush back up and complete your ritual, ignoring the new throbbing in your knuckles and the sharp twinges of pain firing up that arm. You just had to use the hand that’s already injured, damn it. 

You need a distraction, some way to vent your frustration and anger because you’re sure as hell not going to take it out on Mako. No matter how much he might deserve it. The talk that you two need to have needs to be one free from anger and bitterness. It has to be. You just...you need to find out, but not now.

Bringing up the mission board on the wall monitor, you flick through the multiple pages. Your previous position in the old Overwatch gave you power over your own postings now - you weren’t beholden to Winston’s and Jack’s orders like the rest of the rabble. 

Recon mission. Infiltration mission. Assassination. Nope, nope, and nope. You didn’t need the extra stress from reconnaissance or infiltration, and definitely not the adrenaline from an assassination. You need something active, time-consuming and challenging. Something that won’t end in your death or some form of bodily harm because you still need to settle this score with Mako. Not to mention your bum wrist. Something like...

Ah ha! You read through the brief summary that Athena puts together about the assignment and you grin maliciously. Oh yeah. Oh hells yeah. Your name is put down in short measure and Athena acknowledges it, issuing you your instructions that make you prance a little in your quarters as you put together the necessary equipment. It might not be as good as beating Mako up or making up with him, but it’s definitely a close second. Time to crush some souls whip some men and women into shape.

In the next wing over, Mako, too, wakes up lonely, cold, and so so very empty. The bed is still far too big even when he piles your pillows all around him in an attempt to surround himself with you even when you’re not there. It’s not difficult when it seems you have the base’s entire supply of pillows in your shared his room. But it doesn’t work. Not when the body pillow he’s curled around can’t even begin to replace your warmth and weight and presence. He feels like he can’t stay still, like he’s missing something. 

The behemoth of a man cradles the tattered remains of his collar in his hand and stares emptily at the tag, his dark eyes tracing your name over and over again until every curve and stroke is burned into his mind’s eye. He doesn’t move from that position, not even when the door slides open and Jamison hobbles in cautiously.

“Hey, mate,” the blonde calls out carefully, watching his friend’s huge body just let out a sigh instead of a reply. “You-uh, how ya doing?” He asks where you are, it’s so rare that he comes in and you’re not cuddled in bed with Mako unless Jamison comes by in the late morning.

Instead of snapping or saying anything, or even moving, Mako just closes his eyes and tries to swallow past the frog in his throat. He can’t even- he can’t even admit to his closest friend what he did. What he’s done to the love of his life. Those rumours and those doubts seem so insignificant now - how could he even think that you’d be using him? Him, so useless outside of the wastelands of Australia, with no influence here in the outside world. Nothing but the destruction he can wreak with his two hands and his body. So many more handsome men and beautiful women, so many more whole individuals who aren’t already tired of this world, who would be happy to be by your side. And you chose him and he doesn’t even trust you, or himself, for it to be without a catch. 

Jamison wrings his hands where he stands in the doorway, trying to think of something he can say to his friend who’s just lost in his own head. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mako like this, so despondent and so...dead. If it weren’t for the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, Jamison would think him dead. “Do you want me to go get her?” Surely there’s something you can do to snap Mako out of this. Jamie’s a lot of things, but psychiatrist and empathetic he is not. 

But even the mention of your presence does nothing to move Mako. Not when he knows you’ll just refuse to come. To see him. And he doesn’t blame you - why would you when he’s treated you so abhorrently, thrown your love back in your face without blinking. All over some stupid fucking-

When the door closes, Mako just loses it and lets the tears trail from the corners of his eyes. It’s him. It’s all him and his doubts and - nothing in this life ever comes without a catch and he knows it all too well. Not even your love. You would leave eventually and he’ll have nothing left, like always. Nothing in his life ever stays - what has he touched that he has not destroyed?

His alarm rings then, something you set up because he’s just so prone to dozing off after you leave for morning exercises. _“Wakey wakey, Mako~” _your voice rings out from the little box and he stiffens, his eyes snapping open.__

____

Mako whispers your name brokenly and reaches for the alarm, snoozing it, knowing that your voice will sing out again in a minute. 

____

_“Don’t go back to sleep, you need to get up, you big lug! Breakfast doesn’t wait for anyone, much less the One Man Apocalypse.” ___

______ _ _

He snoozes it again, his large finger finding the button even through his suddenly watery eyes.

______ _ _

_“Meet you in the mess hall like always. And if you’re not there by the time I am, you’re gonna be real sorry!”_

_______ _ _ _

Again.

_______ _ _ _

_“Stop pressing the snooze button!” ___

_________ _ _ _ _ _

Again.

_________ _ _ _ _ _

_“Oi!” ___

___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Again.

___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_“Mako Rutledge! Don’t make me come over there to beat you!”_

___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Again. Again. Again. Until he runs out of snoozes and you would be dragging him to morning drills if this were any other day. Your name escapes his lips again and he resets the alarm so he can hear your voice again. 

___________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_“Wakey wakey, Mako~” ___

_____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

He just wants to hear your voice one more time. Just...one more time.

_____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	66. McCree - Follow her lead

Although McCree was the first to bring up the topic of changing up your dynamic in the bedroom, you didn’t really expect him to know what he was getting into. You have always been happy to have a fairly vanilla sex life with him, even though he knows you are more inclined to be the one in charge. Still, you know him well enough that he will struggle to let you lead - it’s just the way he is.

“Hey,” you stroke his hair away from his eyes as you lean over him. “Let’s take a break.”

Jesse almost looks panicked and he shoots up, grabbing your hands as you move away from him. “No!” he clears his throat and kisses you gently. “I want-I want to do this. Let’s try again.”

Your brow furrows as you read his expression and the earnest desire to continue. You sigh, “Okay. Alright. Let’s…try something. Blindfolds and rope okay?”

“Yeah,” he smiles and lies back, stretching his arms above his head like you told him. He wants so badly to please you; he knows it hasn’t been easy to just…not take control in bed and he appreciates it. And truth be told, Jesse’s curious - you’re a natural at handling him and his affairs outside the bedroom, what would it be like in bed? 

He watches you as you come back with a length of bright red rope and a silk and leather blindfold and straddle his wide chest. Your warmth and weight reassures him and he relaxes a little when you take his hands in yours to put them in a column tie. Little kisses are pressed against his knuckles and he can’t help but grin a little at it. God, he loves you so much. The urge to tease you for it bubbles in his throat but he forces it down, this isn’t the time for little quips. It’s all about you now. Just you. 

The blindfold goes on slowly, gently, bit by bit as you kiss down his face to reassure him. You’re here, he’s not alone. You’re here. Losing his sight makes Jesse tense up a little, something that you note and you tap your lip. What else can you do to make him relax?

When the thought comes to you, you smile a little and scratch a little at his chest fur. You lean down and kiss his lips, his nose, his cheeks, anywhere you can reach. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just relax, it’s just me. Just listen and feel. Don’t think, feel.” Your hands press flat against his pecs and caress his skin, going up his shoulders and his neck and tangling into his thick hair. With your body now pressed flush to his, you feel your heartbeat slowly matching his and he relaxes, little by little until he’s leaning into your touch and sighing softly. “There we go.”

McCree moans lowly when you undulate your body against his, hands fidgeting a little above his head with the desire to touch you. He can’t see you but he can feel you around him, in him, but he needs to touch you too.

“Not now,” he hears you whisper into his ear and the tension bleeds from his arms. Not now. Okay, he can do that. Then he feels his thoughts start to go fuzzy as you kiss and lick your way down his chest, focusing on his nipples until he starts to whimper for you. “Such a good boy, Jesse. I love hearing you whimper for me. Can you do that again?”

Yes. Yes he can do that again. Anytime you want. So he lets loose all the sounds he didn’t know he’s been bottling up. He moans when you bite down on his skin as you make your way down to his hips; he groans when you suckle on his balls; he whimpers when you ghost little cool breaths along his now aching cock. Anything and everything you want, he’ll give it to you. 

“That’s it, Jesse. Just let go. I’ll catch you.” Your voice is in his ear again and his mind starts slowing down and his thoughts swim and he’s sure if he had his sight, he wouldn’t be seeing a thing. A pleasant fuzziness takes over him and he just whines when he hears a slick sound and something touching his lips. Instinctively he licks it and moans when your taste touches his tongue. God, you taste so good. So much better than you ever did before and he doesn’t know why. All he knows is he wants more of it.

“May I taste you again?” he begs quietly, licking his lips to try and scavenge a little of your slick again. “Please?”

He feels more than hears the smile in your voice. “You have such good manners, Jesse. Good boy. You may.” 

McCree thanks you and shivers at your praise. Oh, it’s making him so warm inside, so tingly, and it’s only exacerbated by you slipping two slick fingers in his mouth. Tongue dancing, he eagerly sucks your fingers clean and worships them as he would any other part of you. So consumed by his task, Jesse doesn’t realise that you’re fondling his cock and angling it into you until you’re sinking down to the base in one swift movement.

“Ah!” he yelps and arches his back, trembling at the feel of you, your silky warmth, enveloping him. “Oh fuck~” He squirms a little as you start rocking your hips, the tendons in his neck straining when he feels you angle yourself so every thrust hits your sweet spot. 

“You feel so good inside me, Jesse,” you purr and scratch down his chest, a move that he responds to with a loud moan and a fine tremble. 

He gasps, swallows, and asks in a low, quivery voice, “Am I- am I making you feel good, ma’am?” The title slips out unconsciously, but he’s so far beyond questioning anything right now.

“You are, my good boy.” You pepper kisses all over his face and his neck, still riding him and taking your pleasure like you’ve always wanted. “I love your cock and I love it inside me. I love that I always cum on it~” 

Jesse whimpers and writhes under you, thank yous falling from his lips along with your name. That phrase…’good boy’, it just does something to him, makes him feel all warm and gooey and so soft. Your nails bite at his nipples and your lips caress his and your pussy grips him just right and he just-

“I’m gonna-!” He arches his back, almost popping off the bed. Wait! He has to ask- ask permission before-

“May I cum, please ma’am!” It tumbles out quickly and he has to press his hips back against the bed to stave off his orgasm. Not until you say yes. Not until!

Pleased as punch, you tangle your tongue with his and speak against his lips, “Cum for me, my good boy.”

Yes! Jesse cums with a groan, with a slow spread of pleasure that sings through his veins rather than a burst of white hot pleasure. It’s far from the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, but it’s the best by far. His feet slides against the sheets and his legs lie flat from where they had drawn up in his orgasm without his knowing. It takes a while, but he slowly feels his soul start to fall back into his body. Feels the haze clear ever so slightly so that he can tell you’re still riding him hard and fast even though he’s cum already.

“You can still keep going, can’t you, good boy? Master hasn’t cum yet. You can keep your thick cock hard for me, can’t you?” Your voice is breathy and your words hurried from how close you are to your own orgasm.

It triggers something in Jesse and he flexes his hips and his arms sensuously. “I’ll be a good boy, ma’am. Take me, use me. I’m all yours.” His voice is thin and reedy but strong, wavering a little when you start to fuck him in earnest. “Yes! Yesyesyesyes oh pleaaase!” 

He has to breathe hard through the overstimulation but fuck it feels so good. His hips roll up against yours so you can hit that one spot again and again until you slam your hips down and cum with a sharp cry. The tightening of your pussy pulls a small orgasm from him, his cries joining yours. 

As you collapse on his chest, Jesse exhales deeply and closes his eyes behind the blindfold in a daze. Cotton fills his head and his ears and he can’t even begin to try and unravel himself and his thoughts. Dimly, he notes that you take off his blindfold and his restraints and clean him up. He remembers you pulling him to your chest and asking him if he’s alright. His reply might have been a grunt or an actual answer, he’s not sure. 

Floating as he is in his own head, all he’s sure of is that you’re there and he’s with you and you seem to be so happy. That alone makes him melt even further into your embrace and he buries his head in your chest when he realises that he did it. He submitted to you - the one thing he thought he couldn’t do. Something in him cracks and you just seemed to reach into him and fill him and he can’t imagine anything feeling better than that. 

“Let’s do that again,” he whispers against your skin. “I wanna be your good boy again.”

You laugh into his hair and stroke his back gently. “You’re always my good boy.”

Jesse lets a grin cross his face and he snuggles deeper into you.


	67. Genji - Entertain yourself

“If you’re so insistent, you can entertain yourself while I get my work done,” you roll your eyes and shove him under your desk. The many screens before you call for your attention again and you sigh, crack your knuckles, and get back to work. 

Genji grins and nuzzles your knee with his whole face, “Hmph, then I will.” With one hand, he undoes his belt and his pants while he kisses and licks whatever he can reach. He feels like a dirty little secret like this and it turns him on like nothing else, especially when he hears you get back to typing and answering brief calls. 

His cock springs free from his pants the moment his fly goes down and he sighs at the relief. Due to travelling with his father and brother, he hasn’t touched you for what feels like forever and he hasn’t been able to touch himself either - damn honour system. And even though you’re not indulging him right now, this is more than enough to get Genji’s arousal raging and dictating his every move.

He rocks his throbbing, leaking cock against your shin with a soft moan. Hissing with pleasure, he closes his mouth around your thigh and starts to suck and lick eagerly when you shush him in order to take another call. The thrill of being caught fuels him and he brings your legs together and hugs them, slipping his cock between your calves and starts fucking them in earnest.

Pants and little whimpers escape his mouth despite his best efforts, just barely audible to you but you narrow your eyes and shove his face into your lap to shut him up. That only spurs your dirty boy on and he shudders, his hips working faster and harder until there’s a dull thud of his clothed hips against your legs. 

Luckily for him, you finish the call and lean back, tipping his chin up and tightening your legs. “You’re being too noisy. Keep it down or I’ll have to gag you.”

Genji moans and licks his lips seductively, “Promise?” His strong arms tighten around your knees and he fucks you harder, the feeling that he’s nothing but a needy slave going to his head and making everything so fuzzy. Still fully clothed with his cock out, fucking the space between your calves while you ignore him, shit - he’s making a mess of your legs with the way he’s leaking all over the place.

Tutting at him, you cover his mouth and look down imperiously over your nose. “Strip, boy. If you manage to last the hour, you’ll get a reward.”

Oh boy, a reward! Genji knows exactly the kinds of rewards that could be in store and so he eagerly strips until he’s down to his bare skin. Piling them in a corner, he goes back to fucking your legs and mouthing at your skin again. 

“Good boy. Now keep your mouth busy and let me work.”

Genji would reply, but he’s too busy rocking his cock against your silken skin and worshipping your legs with his sinuous mouth and tongue.


	68. McCree - Oral Fixations

It’s a bit like owning a dog, you think as you watch McCree rub your hand on his chin, occasionally slipping a digit into his mouth to suck and lick to his heart’s content. He has his eyes closed, thick lashes fluttering with every lave of his tongue, with every kiss, as he cleans your hand of cream. It was only a finger that’d been dipped in cream, but he ignores it and moves to your knuckles, leaving little butterfly kisses as he goes. 

It is silent but for the soft little pops of his lips leaving your skin with every kiss, the combined pants of the both of you as arousal quickly thickens the air between you two. As he presses his plush lips to the inside of your wrist, he looks up at you through hooded lids, tanned features dark and seductive as he flicks his pink tongue out to tease the sensitive skin. Even without a word, you know what he wants. Greedy boy.

Still, you indulge your man and sink your free hand into his thick hair, twining into the brunette strands and bringing him to your lips where he kisses you with gusto. Passion leaks from his very pores, lust and desire on the tip of his tongue as he laps at your lips and moans at you to let him in. You pull on his hair, tilt his head to the side, and deepen the kiss on your own terms. In reaction, he whimpers and closes his large hands around your smaller wrists, one cold and the other warm and in such contrast to his gentle mouth as his tongue dances with yours wetly. 

Then, you pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips. It threatens to break, drooping and drooping, until McCree lunges forward and licks it up, following it up to your chin where he drops kisses and kitten licks until he reaches the corner of your jaw. There, he whispers your name and a soft plea, begging with his lips and his tongue as much as he does with his words. In his actions, he pleas with you to let him drag your scent and taste into his very skin. Touch him, devour him, let him take your mark. 

But still you refrain, smugly keeping your hands in his hair until his whines at you, high and pleading. You shake your head and drag him down until he catches his teeth on the hem of your shirt. With a quiet word, he strips you with his lips and his teeth, finally putting them on your skin when the fabric hits the floor. As he presses wet, open mouthed kisses on your breasts and your belly, making his way down to your pelvis, he hears your unspoken order and smiles as he complies. 

Yes, he will worship you. Forever.


	69. Lucio - Didn't expect you to shave

Lucio feels a little like a frog on its back pinned to a table, what with his arms spread wide and his legs up and out of the way. Exposed as he is, he shivers as a chill whispers over his bare crotch, exacerbated further by your intent studying of his most intimate parts.

“I didn’t expect you to shave all the way,” you smile, satisfied, your cool fingers trailing up and down his silky smooth balls and perineum. “So smooth…”

The DJ whimpers through his gag and twitches, hands wringing in their shackles. Your touch is driving him insane, teasing at his now incredibly sensitive skin, making him squirm towards you for more. “Please?” he tries to whine through his gag, though it comes out unintelligible. He writhes in place as you take pity on him and lick up the seam of his sack, taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

Panting and groaning, Lucio arches his back beautifully. His caramel skin gleams with a light sheen of oil that you slathered on him earlier, accentuating the sculpted muscles of his toned body. “More! More~!” another attempt at begging you through the rubber ball. 

You laugh and let him go with a loud pop, pulling another whimper from him when your breath chills his slick skin. Dipping down, you disappear from view and Lucio has to strain his neck to watch you as you press a wet kiss to his twitching hole. 

“Yes!” his mumble is clear. It turns into a scream, however, when you pull apart his cheeks and push your tongue in, swirling around his ring of muscles and pulling cry after cry of pleasure from him. “Oh god, yes!”

But then you pull away, leaving his skin slick with spit, to reach for your little trolley of toys and gizmos. Lucio trembles when he sees it, warm eyes widening and his thighs trying to close as his eyes fall on one particular toy. He shakes his head minutely, fearing and anticipating what you have in store for him when you start to grin evilly and stroke his rock hard cock. 

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun with this,” you murmur, taking the lube and slicking up his sweet hole. “Well, me anyway.”


	70. Genji - Love Bites and Possession

To think that Genji can get so possessive. You’re sure Hanzo didn’t mean anything by keeping his hand on your shoulder for ‘a second too long’, or the shy smile he followed it up with. Genji, however, thinks otherwise.

“He is showing interest,” the ninja growls against the underside of your chin, brown eyes narrowed as he rubs a hand against your shoulder where Hanzo touched you. “I’m sure he’s as drawn to you as I am, but unfortunately for him, my ma’am is already taken.” 

His seething tone makes you laugh and pat his cheek, tilting your head back to allow him to lavish more attention on you. “So I am.” It amuses you that he shows this much jealousy; his emotions have always been rather stable, though perhaps his brother’s presence has roused old feelings in him. “And what are you going to do about that?”

At your question, Genji pauses in his fervent sucking of your neck and looks up, seductive brown eyes shuttered by his long eyelashes. He thinks, then lets a devious smirk cross his scarred lips. “I carry your mark, ma’am, but what of you?”

“Me?” You’re sure you’re annoying him by playing dumb. Your hands drop to his collar, the decorative metal piece blending in with the armour protecting his throat, and tap it, “I’m not wearing a collar.”

Those long lashes flutter coyly, “I wouldn’t dare ask my ma’am to wear a collar.” Then his clever lips return to your neck at your behest, kissing and massaging down to your clavicle where he bites down gently. “I’m thinking of something less…obvious.”

You roll your eyes and pull him away, watching as he pouts and strains towards you again. “So a bunch of love bites are less obvious than a metal collar around your throat?”

He bites his lip slowly, letting it go. His pink tongue soothes the bite and leaves a wet trail, curling and dancing to show you how talented his little tongue is. “Mmm, I’d say so,” he murmurs seductively and turns his head to kiss your forearm, pecking little butterfly kisses all the way up your arm until he reaches your shoulder again. “Onegai, ma’am?” 

You sigh and roll your eyes. Hanzo must really have rubbed him the wrong way. But…well, what’s the harm? It’s not like Genji hides his collar anyway.

“Very well.” You nod and Genji brightens up immediately, a strange glint entering his eyes as he smirks and latches onto your neck immediately. “But you owe me.”

Genji’s almost too busy to answer you, but a quick tap to his cheek jolts him and he nods feverishly. Oh, you’re going to make him pay later.


	71. Genji - Too eager

“Shit!” Genji hisses through gritted teeth as you hold him down by the neck, your thick cock spreading him open roughly. “Shiiit~” he’s biting down on the pillow now, hands balled up by his face in a white-knuckled grip. Yet, his hips buck backwards and his spine arches down, tilting himself so the rounded tip scrapes him just right.

You coo at him with a smirk, a lubed finger tracing the twitching ring of muscle that struggles to take the sheer thickness of your favourite cock. “Awww, does it hurt?”

Genji whimpers and shifts, looking up at you from the corner of his watery eye. “Yes.” And then he moans when you push in mercilessly, causing him to tremble in a full-bodied shudder. “But it hurts so goooooood~”

His panting and moaning bring laughter from you. “I would’ve prepared you for this if you’d not been begging for me to fuck you,” you purr and knead his bubble butt in both hands. “But I guess you’re lucky you’re a bit of a pain slut.”

A put-upon grunt escapes him and he widens his thighs so he can rock back against you harder. “A bit?” He sounds like he’s pouting now, albeit muffled by the pillow he’s drooling all over. “You don’t give me enough credit, mistress.”

You roll your eyes and plant a hand on his head so you push his cheek back into the pillow, effectively silencing him. “I think I liked you better when you’re whimpering in pain.”

“As do I,” he manages to smirk at you before it melts into a face of ecstasy, eyes rolled back into his head and mouth agape in a silent scream, as you anchor him by the hips and fuck his tight ass. 

There we go.


	72. Genji - Not a sound

This is probably the best thing you’ve ever bought. Ever. Genji can probably attest to that if he could speak. 

For once, the ninja isn’t screaming his lungs out and advertising the fact that he’s getting some pussy. No, because this time, he’s holding your panties between his teeth and trying his hardest not to let go. He has a tiny corner of the fabric pinched between his teeth, which by the way are already soaked with his drool, and you can see that he’s struggling to remember not to let up on the pressure.

Oh, what’s the best thing you’ve ever bought? It’s not the panties, don’t worry. It’s the clear cock stroker that’s attached to your magic wand vibrator. The stroker that’s sliding up and down his cock, the bumps and ridges and little fingers inside it turning the slick slide into something magical. Or torturous, depending on who you’re talking to. The deep hum of the vibrator is the only sound in the room other than your combined breathing, although Genji’s is far more laboured than yours. 

A soft murmur escapes him then, the barest movement of his lips alerting you to their utterance. His eyes are rolling gently under his heavily lidded eyes and his teeth worry at the fabric, so much so that it looks like your panties are about to slip through his grip. With an evil grin, you pull the stroker up so it slides up his ultra-sensitive head and then back down, pausing just so it covers the mushroomed head of his cock and nothing else. 

That makes Genji tremble and scream through gritted teeth, his whole body shuddering and making a fresh sheen of sweat break out on his tanned skin. 

Playfully, you shush him. “Not a sound, Genji, do you understand?” His tear-filled eyes go cross-eyed before he looks at you blankly, lips trembling as he starts to suck on your panties to keep it from falling. “You have to be absolutely quiet or I will want to make you scream even louder.” To emphasise your threat, you bob the stroker up and down his cockhead a couple of times, enough to make him whimper and sob quietly. “My panties are supposed to make you quieter, not louder.”

When you stop, he nods tremulously, wide brown eyes peering up at you. The next few strokes yield nothing but heavy panting. Good. You will see how long that lasts.


	73. Reaper - This is about control

Not yet! Oh fuck, not yet. Gabriel squeezes his eerie red eyes shut, clawed hands digging into the mattress on either side of your head. You feel so perfect around him, so warm and wet in contrast to his colder body, and it sets him aflame whenever he moves within you. He’s not quite sure how much time has passed since he was allowed to slip inside you; the sheer pleasure and lust suffusing his senses are muddling his thoughts.

A slap to his cheek brings him back to reality and he glares at you with hazy eyes. “What?”

You glare back at him, “What did I just say?”

Crap. “That you…uh…” Shit, he’s drawing a blank. 

Your eyes narrow at him and you yank him down by the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers into his curly locks. “When you’re in bed with me, I’m in charge. I decide when you cum, I decide how you move. And right now, you’re the one deciding that you shouldn’t cum before I do. Well,” you bite his lip hard enough to draw blood and Gabriel moans, softening and melting a little further into you. 

When he’s sufficiently paying you attention, you pull away and force him to start thrusting again by squeezing your thighs around his muscled waist. “This is about control and you’re definitely not going to have any.” Your voice is seductive and commanding all at once and it has a visible effect on the man who snarls at you.

“Fuck, I just-!” He doesn’t manage to finish his sentence. Not when you encircle his neck with both hands and place a vicious kiss on his lips just as you clench your pussy tight around his rock hard cock. And just like that, Gabriel tips over the edge with a startled cry. He pins you down, growling, and forces his hips deep, as though trying to bury himself as far into you as possible. Encouraged by your hands and legs, of course.

As the aftershocks of his orgasm slowly peter out, you clasp his face in both hands and nip at his slack lips. “See? Just like that,” you purr and undulate your hips against his, paying no heed to his sharp inhale and subsequent whimper. “Now keep yourself hard so that I can cum on that big cock of yours.”

Gabriel dips his head in submission and lets his hips buck instinctively, forcing himself to push past the overstimulation. “Y-yes, ma’am.”


	74. Brigitte - You don't think you can cum again?

Brigitte is sobbing now, her arms sore from being suspended above her head and her belly cramping up from her nth orgasm. Her face is soaked in tears and drool and lube, her eyelashes gunked shut from it all. And yet she keeps her legs open, trained so well not to close her thighs even if her body is screaming at her not to.

“I-I can’t-!” She gasps wetly, tongue slack and throat hoarse from the gag that you just removed. “Please, no more! I can’t cum anymore, I can’t!” Sobs turn into whimpers, begging into whining for mercy. She’s soaked in sweat and cum and tears and she can’t-!

You sneer and slap at her thigh to stop it from closing, shoving another dildo into her already stretched out pussy to join the multitude of vibrators and eggs already inside. “What was that?” Your laughter is cruel but full of arousal. “You don’t think you can cum again?” You press the wide-headed vibrator against her swollen clit and watch her dance and jump on the one leg she has on the ground. “Well, too bad.” 

Brigitte screams as you clamp weights onto her erect nipples after wiping them roughly with a rag. They pull down on her breasts, stretching the skin cruelly but oh so sweetly, and the engineer freezes in order to stop the weight from swaying and causing her more pain. It is then that you take the opportunity to tease her ass open with a gentle finger, dragging the fucking machine over with your foot so you can slide the ribbed cock into her greedy hole.

“No! Nonononono please!” She’s begging you loudly now, her body writhing in spite of the weights and the fullness of her pussy. “Please, not my ass!”

Hmm, no safeword yet. In that case…You spread her asshole open and push against her with your body, letting the head of the cock spear her open and slide deep into her body. She throws her head back, mouth agape in a silent scream and her eyes squeezed shut, and you know you have her again.

Leaning close, you kiss her ear gently and murmur against her soaked hairline. “I’m going to show you that you can. Cum for me.”

And with a scream, she does. With eyes bulging and tongue hanging, she cums and contorts her body from the sheer pain. When she comes down from the painful high, she slumps in her bonds and whimpers when she sees you turn up the vibrator once more.

“Again.”


	75. Symmetra - More

Satya gasps, struggling and wriggling under you, her hands clenching and relaxing as you slowly slide your favourite cock into her soaking wet pussy. The clamps on her nipples bite deliciously with her every move, turning pain into pleasure and pleasure into pain. And when you are finally all the way in, crotch to crotch, she breaks free of your grip on her wrists to encircle her arms around your neck.

“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can,” she growls deeply in your ear, fingers already clawing at your back even though you’re moving at a snail’s pace. “And I don’t want you to stop,” her dark eyes bore into yours with a lust-crazed grin. “Even if I tell you to.”

A laugh escapes you and you pin her to the bed with your body weight, hands hooking under her knees to haul her legs up to her shoulders. “You know your safeword?”

“Hard Light.” She grinds it out through gritted teeth, eyes already rolling into the back of her head.

A purr of approval is your only answer and you dip your head to grab the chain connecting the nipple clamps. With it firmly between your teeth, you jerk your head up and start to fuck her roughly, deep, heavy strokes that make her gurgle that she can feel it in her throat. She yowls at the pain in her breasts, then mewls when your cock buzzes to life with vibrations so strong even you can feel it. 

“More~” Satya’s moaning is thick and seductive, her doe-like eyes softening even more under the wave of pleasure that threatens to overwhelm her.


	76. Genji - Challenge Accepted

You love it when Genji’s in the mood to be roughed up and destroyed. Case in point:

“I want you to fuck me as hard as you can and I don’t want you to stop,” he purrs even as he throws himself against his restraints. “Even if I tell you to.” 

You laugh and slap his ass until your palms turn red from the impact, enjoying his delighted growls and the swaying of his bubble butt as he attempts to crawl away from you despite the rope tying him down. “But you won’t, will you, slut?” Your answering leer is accompanied by a wet squelch as you retrieve the huge butt plug from his winking asshole. 

He turns back as much as he can and grins toothily, knees widening and shoulders lowering. Presenting himself. “Mmm. Question is, can you make me beg you to stop?”

The collection of toys next to you says yes, you can make him beg you to stop. But the challenge is half the fun, isn’t it? You tell him as much and watch him buck his hips unconsciously, his cock and balls hanging heavily under his hips. God, he’s so hard already and you just know he’s going to cum buckets tonight. 

“Hmph, no one’s going to beg when you’re so sloooooooowwww~” His taunt tapers off into a long moan as you fit a vibrating egg into his loose ass, using your fingers to nudge it back and forth until you find his prostate. Genji starts to quiet down a little now, too busy panting and enjoying the sensation on his prostate to bother taunting you again. 

Ah, but you’re not done. Another egg, just as big as the first, joins it, stretching him a little now and buzzing ever louder from being pressed against another hard surface. Genji blushes at the noise, hips now canting back and forth as though he can push back on the egg. He doesn’t have to wait too long, lucky boy, as you push in a bullet vibrator and finally two slim dildos. 

The ninja is panting lewdly now, eyes glazed over and unseeing and his jaw hanging loose to let his tongue bob out. His hips are slowly lowering, his legs trembling and sliding down, but you don’t let him take a break. 

“Hey, on your knees, boy!” You slap in asshole in admonishment and Genji jumps with a yelp, scrambling to keep his knees under him. But his position isn’t to your liking and you jam in another bullet vibrator, which makes him break his position even further. “Come on, Slave! Head down, ass up.” 

Genji is trembling visibly now, his breaths coming in heavy pants that sound like moans and whimpers at the same time. He feels so full and he wants to cum so badly! But the fucking cock ring prevents him from blowing his load too early and it’s driving him insane. Oh fuck you’re-!

You lick a line up his twitching balls and giggle at the steady stream of precum that leaks from his quickly purpling cock. “Oh boy, oh boy.” You fuck him with the dildo and enjoy the difficulty in pulling it out and jamming it back it - the sheer amount of toys in him jostle with every move and Genji is quickly melting into the bed at this point. “You know, it looks like you’ll be begging me to stop before long.”

He looks at you blearily from the corner of his eye, face already caked in drool and tears. 

“You didn’t think I was going to stop filling you with toys, now did you?”

Genji’s brown eyes roll into the back of his head. Heaven and Hell all in one, and he loves it.


	77. Reaper - Show me you can follow orders

Reaper throws himself against the collar chaining him to the wall, uncaring that it bites into the cold flesh of his throat. “Fucking tease!” He snarls, teeth gnashing and claws curling, his talons skittering over the bare concrete floor to fight for purchase. “Goddamnit, get over here.”

In the face of barely leashed danger, you remain calm. In fact, you just close your legs and cross them from your previously splayed position, denying him the mouthwatering view of your bare, dripping pussy. “So demanding,” you drawl, running a finger, damp with your arousal, over your lips.

His eyes, large, dark orbs with the thinnest ring of red, only narrow. He licks his lips and strains further towards you with a low growl. “Let me taste you,” his gravelly voice turns into a deep, sultry purr. “Just one taste~” And just like that his body language turns seductive rather than aggressive, his shoulders pushing back to showcase his bulging pecs and hard nipples; his massive thighs spreading to reveal the thick line of his cock pressing up against the fabric of his pants. “Let me taste your pussy.”

You bite your lip, thighs rubbing together before you part them slowly, teasingly. And still so far out of his reach. “Hmm, this pussy?”

“Yesss,” he hisses, fangs bared and eyes locked on your slick pussy lips. “Yes.” He tries to crawl forward, only to be stopped by the damned collar again.

The look of frustration on his face brings a mocking laugh from you and you stand up, finally deciding to take pity on him. The Reaper glares lustfully at you, those clawed hands reaching out to close around the back of your knees once you come close enough. He purrs, trying to nuzzle into the juncture of your thighs even though his nose just barely brushes your skin.

Reaper whines again when you refuse to come closer - pouting now, in fact - and you tap his lip with that now sticky finger, pressing it against his pillowy lips until you slip it into his mouth. There, he starts to lick and suck, his eyes fluttering closed as your taste and scent suffuses his senses. And when your finger is licked clean, he pushes it out of his mouth and extends his tongue forth, wriggling and stretching to taste the tops of your thighs.

For a moment, you indulge him, swaying close so he can give you a single open-mouthed kiss. Heaven touches you for one bare moment, soft and wet and intoxicating. Alas, you’re not about to let him have his way so easily.

“No!” He snarls, claws digging into your calves as you move to step away. 

Tutting, you tap his forehead in rebuke and put your palm there to push him away. “Let go.”

“No.” He’s growling now, grip tightening to the point where you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow.

“Let. Go.” You keep your tone even and tug at your legs. “Don’t make me say it again.” Now that is a threat.

Reaper growls deep in his chest, sounding more like a revving motor more than a man. He kneads at you, pricking your skin, but then he sighs and deflates. Letting you go slowly and dropping his hands into his lap. But for all of his sudden obedience, his deadly scowl still remains on his handsome features.

A feeling of affection and victory wells in your chest. Victory as you have finally gotten him to listen to you. Affection as he is starting to realise exactly what you mean by submission. “Good boy,” you murmur and tangle your fingers into his wild, salt and peppered hair to tilt his head back. “Don’t worry,” you tell him when he starts to glower angrily at you again. “Good boys get rewarded. Show me you can follow orders and I’ll be a lot nicer, my love.”

And with that, you push him so he’s sitting back on his haunches and so his face is now lower than the apex of your thighs. You anchor your hands in his hair, stopping him from moving as you spread your legs and walk forward, planting your pussy solidly on his greedy mouth. 

Reaper groans with satisfaction, his hands lifting from his lap to curl around the back of your thighs carefully. Keeping his talons away from your skin. He grows silent but for his heavy breathing after that, far too busy devouring your essence and sucking your clit to throw more sass at you. It amuses you that he’s the most obedient you’ve ever seen him, as though keeping his mouth and hands busy is a far better collar than any piece of leather you can wrap around his throat. 

And- oh! Ah, and what a great way to keep him busy, you think as he squeezes your ass in his large hands, his tongue dipping as far into you as possible and his teeth grazing at your now drenched lips. What a…great…way-


	78. Junkrat - You wanted it rough

“Aww, does that hurt?” you coo at Jamison, your hand closing tight around his tied up balls. 

“N-no?” he gulps, hands clenching behind his back and straining not to pull on the rope that connects it to his collar. But at your look and the nails digging into the now tight skin of his family jewels, he quickly corrects himself. “I mean, yes! Yes, it hurts!”

A patronising sigh leaves you as you let go of his abused balls, much to his relief, although you set your sights on his wonderfully constricted cock instead. The thick flesh of his cock bulges out between the gaps of the rope you’ve wound around it, the tip already weeping a constant stream of precum that only makes his torture worse as it wets the rope and chafes him more. You slap it roughly, watching it bounce and he winces. “You wanted me to be rough, so I’m being rough, darling. Can’t you handle it?”

Jamison wheezes, grits his teeth, when you pinch his oozing slit. It only causes him to spread his thighs wider and buck his hips instead of snapping them closed. That amuses you; after all, all it does is show you the dark red hue of his balls. 

“Harder…” 

His whisper is so soft that you have to slap his cock so that he’d repeat it. “What was that?”

The crazed junker just swallows back the frog in his throat and cries out, “Harder! Fuckin’ hit me harder!” And when you do exactly as he begs, Jamison screams and squirms and bucks his hips up into the air. “Harder! Harderharderhaaaa~!”

For anyone else, this would be ball-shrivelling levels of pain by the way you spank his cock and balls like you would his ass - hard and stinging. But for Jamison? Ah, for Jamison this is heaven on earth, because he moans and sobs and begs in a shrill voice for more.


	79. Zenyatta - Ready for more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone say Zenyatta?

So long ago, someone told you that omnics made poor lovers. ‘Cold and unfeeling,’ they said. ‘Incapable of receiving pleasure and giving it in turn.’ 

Well, who’s laughing now? You wager they’re missing out a lot because your omnic lover has never disappointed. He might not have a mouth or have the softness of a human man, but Zenyatta is so much more expressive than any lover you’ve had before. He doesn’t need eyes or a mouth or lungs to tell you exactly how much you drive him insane with arousal.

Like right now, like how he’s trembling underneath you, his unclothed form appearing so delicate with his parts exposed as they are. His chassis is hot to the touch, his limbs also just as warm from the sheer heat emanating from his body. You think he can set you aflame from the temperature alone, but what inspires an even larger wildfire in you is the thick cock jutting from his crotch. 

It’s so big and thick that, when in comparison to his leaner frame, it looks incredibly obscene. Particularly when paired with your juices soaking the metal. You coo at it and slide yourself up and down just to feel his thickness stretch you deliciously once more to the tune of his helpless whimper. “How are you feeling, my love?” You manage to groan out through the spikes of pleasure wracking your body.

Zenyatta whines with his head thrown back into the pillow. “U-utter…perfection.” His vocal processors sound like they’ve been thrown through the grinder. Maybe from how much you’ve messed them up with your programmes or maybe from how much he’s been using them since you started. “O-ohhhh.”

You cackle and bear down on him with all your weight, much to his pleasure judging by his choked wheeze, and tap something on your wrist. Immediately he starts writhing and jumping under you, the programme he installed within himself flaring to life. It plays his most vulnerable wires to a sensuous tune, one that inflames him to the point where he might be overheating. Your hands descend on his chest then, crawling their way up his neck to his face where you caress his jaw with a smile. 

The lights on his face flicker and glitch out, his head jittering and rolling in your grasp as he’s overwhelmed by the sheer amount of sensation flooding through him. “Pleeasse~” He can only moan weakly, hands gripping at your hips and waist desperately to get you to move. “Ride me, my dearest. Please ride-!” Zenyatta doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you’re planting your hands on the bed beside his neck. Using them as leverage, you bounce on him and roll your hips to get his head to scrape you juuuust right. 

You’re not bothering to hold back your noises now, growls and mewls and moans filtering out from you to match his own weak sobs and groans. The programme makes him shudder violently beneath you, his limbs curling up and latching around you like a vice grip and limiting your movement. But you don’t let that stop you, not when there’s something that his dick can do that makes your job so much easier. 

With a press of a button, his cock starts to vibrate and roll, little beads under the metallic ‘skin’ rolling across your stretched walls and g-spot until you’re choking out a cry of pure ecstasy. Your orgasm washes over you and hits you like a Mack truck at the same time Zenyatta succumbs to his overload. He spazzes out under you as you jam your hips hard onto him, trying to force him as deep inside you as you can. For what seems like hours you grind against him, eking out the last drops of your powerful orgasm before you stop and take a breath. 

The rolling and vibrating of the cock have stopped, you notice, and attribute it to how Zenyatta is just starting to reboot up after overloading. The programme shut itself off when he fell unconscious, but now that he’s starting to stir, it fires up again but at its minimum setting. The monk starts trembling again, his cock unceasing in its vigour despite its owner’s flagging stamina. Ah, the wonders of an omnic lover. 

His eye lights flicker and glow to full strength and then you have his attention. So you lean forward, rocking yourself slowly on his cock to power through your oversensitivity, and enjoy the defeated whimper that leaks out of him. “Look at you lying there all used,” you coo at him, fingers slipping into the gaps in his armour to tangle along the wires in his neck. Zenyatta jumps and shakes, hands digging painfully into your back. “Do you think you’re ready for more?”

It takes him a moment to compose himself to form a semi-intelligible answer. “Of course, dearest.” He sounds tired and hoarse but still strong despite the fatigue in his mechanical body. “I am at your disposal.”

“Oh, you are.” You grin and crank up the programme back to full strength slowly, letting him do all the work now as he bucks and plants his feet into the bed so he can fuck you better with weak thrusts. “You are.”


	80. Young Genji - Entertain yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An honour system is mentioned briefly here, so if you were wondering, it means when the bottom is in chastity but without the cage. It’s an honour system since nothing is stopping them from masturbating except their own willpower.

“If you’re so insistent, you can entertain yourself while I get my work done,” you roll your eyes and shove him under your desk. The many screens before you call for your attention again and you sigh, crack your knuckles, and get back to work. 

Genji grins and nuzzles your knee with his whole face, “Hmph, then I will.” With one hand, he undoes his belt and his pants while he kisses and licks whatever he can reach. He feels like a dirty little secret like this and it turns him on like nothing else, especially when he hears you get back to typing and answering brief calls. 

His cock springs free from his pants the moment his fly goes down and he sighs at the relief. Due to travelling with his father and brother, he hasn’t touched you for what feels like forever and he hasn’t been able to touch himself either - damn honour system. And even though you’re not indulging him right now, this is more than enough to get Genji’s arousal raging and dictating his every move.

He rocks his throbbing, leaking cock against your shin with a soft moan. Hissing with pleasure, he closes his mouth around your thigh and starts to suck and lick eagerly when you shush him in order to take another call. The thrill of being caught fuels him and he brings your legs together and hugs them, slipping his cock between your calves and starts fucking them in earnest.

Pants and little whimpers escape his mouth despite his best efforts, just barely audible to you but you narrow your eyes and shove his face into your lap to shut him up. That only spurs your dirty boy on and he shudders, his hips working faster and harder until there’s a dull thud of his clothed hips against your legs. 

Luckily for him, you finish the call and lean back, tipping his chin up and tightening your legs. “You’re being too noisy. Keep it down or I’ll have to gag you.”

Genji moans and licks his lips seductively, “Promise?” His strong arms tighten around your knees and he fucks you harder, the feeling that he’s nothing but a needy slave going to his head and making everything so fuzzy. Still fully clothed with his cock out, fucking the space between your calves while you ignore him, shit - he’s making a mess of your legs with the way he’s leaking all over the place.

Tutting at him, you cover his mouth and look down imperiously over your nose. “Strip, boy. If you manage to last the hour, you’ll get a reward.”

Oh boy, a reward! Genji knows exactly the kinds of rewards that could be in store and so he eagerly strips until he’s down to his bare skin. Piling them in a corner, he goes back to fucking your legs and mouthing at your skin again. 

“Good boy. Now keep your mouth busy and let me work.”

Genji would reply, but he’s too busy rocking his cock against your silken skin and worshipping your legs with his sinuous mouth and tongue.


	81. Genji - Some Demons Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of a prompt posted by imagine-this-overwatch :3
> 
> Imagine you’re about to have sex for the first time with Genji, but he’s so nervous… so afraid his body will turn you off. Afraid he won’t please you. Afraid he’ll go back to the days of his youth—- He has so much anxiety, he realizes he can’t even get it up.
> 
> He’s extremely embarrassed and swears it’s not your fault! He just has so much on his mind… But it’s okay! You tell him you can wait until he feels more comfortable and he needs to be a little better at communicating his insecurities. Rather than having sex that night, the two of you just snuggle warmly in bed while you pepper his cheeks with kisses.

He’s humiliated. And not in a good way.

In all his years he never wished he could get an erection harder than he does now. He avoids your gaze and glares down at his flaccid cock, looking embarrassingly tiny against his armour and the dark synthetic flesh of his inner thigh. Faintly, he quips about how he’s a grower and not a shower, trying so very hard not to let his mortification bleed through his devil-may-care tone.

In his chest his heart freezes and sits like a stone, dread coursing through him at your silence as you sit between his legs on the bed. Though his lungs struggle to drag in air, he forces himself to croak out that he’s sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s his – his and his stupid issues that never seem to go away no matter how long his wounds have had to heal. It’s been ten years but the imperfection of his flesh and metal body still haunts him every time he looks down or in the mirror. Fuck, he thought he got over it long ago but he supposes there are some things he just can’t fix.

He rambles on, accent thickening as he stumbles over his words. Eyes locked on your knees, he crosses his hands over his crotch, mumbling again that he’s very sorry. He knows you’ve been looking forward to being more intimate with him for a while. His brother was right, he does ruin everything he touches, he-

His self-deprecating mental tirade is halted in its tracks by your hand as it cups his cheek lovingly, bringing his teary gaze up to your eyes that are full of understanding.

It’s okay. It’s really okay. He doesn’t have to feel bad about something that he has no control over. You reassure him gently and help him exchange his hands for his crotch guard, latching it in place for him when his hands proved too shaky to do it himself. With slow movements, you pull his head down to your shoulder and hug him securely, crooning into his ear that he can take as much time as he needs to be comfortable with his body around you. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all. Baby steps, dear sparrow. Baby steps.

Your embrace is like a warm blanket for him, dousing his fear that you’d be disappointed in him. That’s the last thing he ever wants to do. In his relief, he feels tears well up in his eyes anew and he has to bury his face in your neck to stop you from seeing him so weak. So vulnerable. But you don’t care that he’s crying a little into your neck and soaking the collar of your shirt; in fact, you just pull him closer and drag him into your lap so you can tangle your limbs together with his.

It doesn’t take him long to recover from his mini-breakdown and to wrap his strong arms around your back to glue himself to your smaller frame. He sighs into your skin and wipes the dampness off with his hoodie, apologising softly for ruining your shirt.

Your laugh reassures him and makes him smile. You murmur that he’s too cute for his own good and pepper kisses all over his face and chin, stopping at his neck so you can rest your head on his shoulder. A pout crosses his face and he pushes you down onto the mattress, draping himself over you as he asks you if he’s always this cute or if this is a good day for him.

The flurry of kisses to his cheeks and lips are answer enough.


	82. McCree - Leather Pants (And Why They Should Be Outlawed)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was watching a documentary called Emergency Bikers and one chap had beautiful legs in his leather riding pants. His ass was so hot it inspired me to imagine our pretty cowboy in those pants.

It should be a crime to look that good in a pair of leather pants. Thick thighs that ripple with muscle every time he shifts his weight, tightening the leather over the generous globes of his ass. Couple that with knee-high boots that conform to his calves and a thick padded biker’s jacket and you have a mouthwatering sight. 

You’re barely holding back your drool with your teeth digging into your lower lip. The other women by your side, also admiring the gaggle of leather-clad men before you aren’t so subtle. Hana is whistling and Sombra is cat-calling loudly, directing their lewd attentions to the most embarrassed of the group. Ana just smirks, nodding to Reaper and Soldier 76 who just respond with their middle fingers.

You? You just have eyes for one man who doffs his wide-brimmed hat at you with a teasing wink. He straddles the hoverbike between this strong thighs and spreads them as far as they can go, stretching tight over the noticeable bulge in the crotch of his pants. Like a homing beacon, your eyes dart in on it and stare greedily, pupils widening as you notice it twitch ever so gently. 

That’s it. You let go of your chewed up bottom lip and stride forth, unheeding of the loud whoops from the women as you seize your man’s hair in hand. McCree grins as he’s hauled to your lips and kissed like the world is about to end. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you close, his powerful form bracing both you and the hoverbike as his strength almost pulls you into his lap. 

“What did I say about the leather pants, McCree?” You moan softly against his lips and clamp one hand around the back of his neck as the other, out of sight of the others, sneaks down to grope at his ass.

The cowboy turned biker groans and kisses you back hungrily, whimpering against your lips, “That I look goddamned hot in it?” Uncaring of the company around you, he rocks his ass into your grip and uses your knee to alleviate the painful pressure of his rock hard cock straining against the crotch of his pants.

That’s one. And there’s another. “That you’re not allowed to wear it outside the bedroom.” Your hand shifts back to his hair and you tilt his head back so he looks up at you with a dazed expression, unheeding of the crowd still around you. “Because gods help me, I’m going to rip it off your body in the next ten minutes, crowd or not.”

He licks his lips and growls seductively up at you, pulling you onto the bike behind him. “You got it, boss!” With only a smug salute at the amused crowd, he fires up the hoverbike and roars off into the horizon. Fuck the coffee run, he’s got a mistress to fuck silly.


	83. Hanzo - First pets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of an idea by imagine-this-overwatch :)   
> 'Here’s a thought: Adopted hybrid boi gets pet on the head for THE FIRST TIME EVER and he just doesn’t know how to react??? That felt so nice and it made him so happy,,, he just starts to cry. '

You’re not disappointed when Hanzo seems to shy away from human contact when you brought him home. You were duly warned and even saw it for yourself at the adoption centre. Still, it does make your hand twitch when his fluffy ears swivel around or when he rolls over on a patch of sunlight. 

There’s no doubt that Hanzo loves you as much as you love him, which does make up for the lack of affection that he shows you. It’s a cold comfort when you really want to touch him and hug him but that’s okay, you’d rather not push him beyond what he’s okay with. 

Some days though…some days are really hard.

Like today. It’s been a shitty day at work and an even shittier month; little things that don’t usually bother you eventually snowball into things that make you want to curl up at home and just wallow in yourself. The day has been a drag, chipping away at your soul until you close the door behind you with an empty look in your eyes and a haunted expression on your face. 

Hanzo, bless him, sidles up to you when he sees you come home, wandering close enough for you to feel his heat but not feel his silken skin. You flash him a quick smile and head straight to bed; that’s enough adulting for today, you think. The hybrid follows behind closely, tutting at you and picking up the clothes you litter around the house as he does so. It would make you smile had you the energy.

You muster up a small mutter of thanks and collapse onto the mattress, burying your face into the blanket. Softness and the smell of home permeates your senses, calming you instantly and you sprawl out with a soft moan of contentedness. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes turn into the better part of an hour, and as you doze off you feel the mattress dip beside you. 

Raven hair fills your vision - Hanzo. He looks at you worriedly, looking pointedly at the mug of tea on the bedside table. When you decline it in favour of vegging out, he frowns and flops on his side next to you, his tail whipping across your legs in a show of his irritation. 

With him this close, your thoughts turn away from your terrible day and to his handsome visage instead. Silky, glossy hair and charming fluffy ears, intelligent black eyes that glint back at you in the dying light of dusk. His facial hair, always impeccably groomed, twitch when he bites at his lip and shuffles closer, his shoulder a hair’s breadth away from your curled hand. He’s looking at your hand, you realise, ears swivelling and flicking as though he’s contemplating something. 

It’s an adorable sight, one that breaks your self-discipline.

Unbidden, your hand shifts and lands gently on his head, your thumb stroking his impossibly soft locks. Unbeknownst to you, a serene smile spreads across your lips and holds Hanzo’s attention. His eyes are wide and locked on your face; you’re…you’re petting him!

Should he shift away? Should he stay? Hanzo’s mind turns to static, fuzzing even more when you move your hand to pet him properly, fussing at his ears and tugging his hair out of his ponytail. He lets his eyes flutter shut, leaning into you and purring sonorously into the silence of your bedroom. Normally he doesn’t like being petted, doesn’t like his hair being touched, but this…this is nice.

Something warm fills his chest and his head, making his heart and brain turn to mush the longer your hand cups his head and threads into his hair. It feels good. Really good. 

With a lump stuck in his throat, he opens his eyes to see if he dares to inch closer only to find that you’ve dozed off completely, snoring gently into the rumpled blankets. Affection and love and something that he’s not prepared to acknowledge bloom inside him. Yes, he thinks as he rubs his head against your hand, this is nice. Maybe being petted isn’t so bad after all.


	84. Soldier 76 - First lovings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off of an idea by imagine-this-overwatch :)  
> 'Here’s a thought: Adopted hybrid boi gets pet on the head for THE FIRST TIME EVER and he just doesn’t know how to react??? That felt so nice and it made him so happy,,, he just starts to cry. '

This old hybrid stiffens when you cup his head in your hands. What on earth are you doing?

You laugh and smooth your thumbs over his weathered cheeks, rubbing your forehead against his as you pet him thoroughly. Why, you’re petting him of course, what else? 

He swallows past the lump in his throat and clenches his jaw, trying to stop the tears that well up in his eyes at the way you run your fingers through his thinning hair and kiss the hideous scars on his face. You don’t have to be nice to him and pet him; he knows it doesn’t feel as nice as petting a hybrid with fuller hair and smoother skin.

Huffing, you shake your head and play with his white hair affectionately, slicking it back from his forehead. This is fine. You’re petting him, not some other hybrid. 

Jack sniffles and looks down, feeling like he can’t look you in the eyes while begging for more pets with his body. He’s so old but he’s acting like a pup all over again, eager to be touched and loved. But he really does want more pets; he just can’t say it without wanting to crawl into a hole.

Luckily for him, you’re a mindreader. Or a Jack-reader, anyway. You hug him to your chest and lean back against the sofa, caressing the back of his head and closing a hand over the back of his neck to stop him from leaving. The hybrid is stiff for a heartbeat but melts just as quickly, winding his strong arms around you and nuzzling into your neck.


	85. McCree - Wet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hybrid!McCree

Wouldn’t it be quite fun if you fashioned your own stealth kit, using it to ghost around the base at will. On a whim, you sneak into pup!Cree’s room and find him bare ass naked on the bed, his cock tucked in his sheath as he slumbers peacefully.

You’re not one to pass on this opportunity and you slide onto the bed with a grin, ghosting your fingers over the opening of his sheath. It’s so much fun to play with him when he can’t control his actions. So fun to watch his cock twitch and slide out of his sheath ever so slowly, thickening and becoming a ruddy flush with every stroke of your fingers, with every flick of your questing tongue.

He’s whining and whimpering in his sleep, murmuring your name and sounding like he’s experiencing a rather delicious wet dream. Well, that’s fine, you’re living out your own wet dream, after all.

Soon enough his cock is weeping into your greedy mouth, pulsing and almost twitching out of your grip the closer you push him to his peak. With a strangled gasp, he cums into your twisting grip, hips dancing and back arching under you. Strings of pearly seed fly across his chest and land on his face, some landing on his lips and others dribbling across his furry, well-toned abs. 

You grin and stroke his cock languidly to enjoy the remnants of his cum, a giggle slipping out when McCree unconsciously darts his tongue out to lap up the bits of cum on his lips. In his orgasm, his sheath rolled under his huge knot, the thick veins and intimidating swell drawing your attention. 

You’re tempted to close your hand over the knot, to ease the need for strong pressure. But you won’t, because you’re mean like that and you really need to get out of here before his alarm goes off. Luckily for McCree, his own hand clamps down on his knot in your place as you scurry to the door and slip out without a sound. 

A pity you can’t stay. Especially when he starts jerking himself off as he rouses from his deep sleep.


	86. Soldier 76 - Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short drabble of what a continuation to Keep Your Head Down and Keep Your Mouth Shut would look like :)

Soldier and reader have been fucking on and off for a good while after the events of Keep Your Mouth Shut, with reader being the one to approach Soldier most of the time. He really likes it, but doesn’t want to push his luck with her. The funny thing is, they don’t really get along well outside of the bedroom; they both have very strong personalities and Soldier doesn’t like being talked back to. 

Obviously, reader isn’t insubordinate to the point where she’d compromise missions, but if he makes a questionable call, she will give him shit for it. Winston likes putting them on a team together because they actually do get the job done well and done fast. It’s just hell for their other teammates.

But one day Soldier really gets on reader’s nerves. Like REALLY gets on her nerves. She’s pissy and hissy and holds him back in the hangar after everyone leaves and drags him into a corner under a set of stairs. Soldier gets super turned on when she manhandles him, particularly since she’s almost half his size. 

She doesn’t give a shit how turned on he is though and shoves his back to the wall, unzipping his jacket roughly and ripping his undershirt in half. His pants are dropped around his ankles and she has her mouth wrapped around his cock in short measure. Soldier has to bite his glove from the abruptness of her actions; he’s not even half hard when she swallows his length down her throat. 

He’s wondering what the fuck’s up since she’s been angry at him - turns out she just wants to play with his cock to make herself feel better. It’s the best part of him by far. It was probably aimed at his being an asshole but Soldier doesn’t give a whit when she’s sucking his soul out from his cock. Eventually, she gets bored of sucking his cock and pulls him down with her, his back to her chest and her back to the wall. It’s a better way for her to toy with his cock as he struggles not to cum.

You know that thing where you’re exploring a guy’s cock for the first time and you just run your fingers all over just to see what gets him going? That’s reader, except she knows exactly what turns him on and she’s just refusing to brush over those spots. Soldier’s begging her to jerk him off properly, complaining that she should treat her toy better if she wants it to work properly. 

Work properly? Well, she just needs it to stay hard. She doesn’t need it to cum. She definitely doesn’t need him to cum because that would cut her fun short. If her toy got soft then it’s not a toy worth having, right? At this point Soldier is strangling the base of his cock with a desperate hand and struggling not to cum from her voice in his ear. But realistically he’s so turned on by her dominance and her fingers that he ends up cumming with a broken groan. 

True to her word, reader doesn’t stop even when he’s cum, rubbing around the flare of his head and dipping into his leaky slit again and again until he writhes in her arms and cums with a short spurt. Oh boy, he’s feeling all of his years right now, his knees feeling super achy and his belly spasming in pain. 

But shit, someone’s coming down the stairs. In a panic, reader slaps her slimy, dirty hand over his mouth to keep his moans from coming out. On the contrary it just makes him hornier and he keeps jerking himself off even though they hear another strike team loading onto the Orca. 

Once they’re gone though, reader slaps his hand away and squeezes one last mind-rending orgasm from him before she sloppily tucks his cock back inside his pants. Soldier’s just dazed and weak from the exertion, he doesn’t berate her when she mops up his mess with his ruined shirt or when she doesn’t bother to zip up his pants properly. He does stumble when she hauls him up and drags him back to her room for round two and wonders if there’s such a thing as deflated balls. If any more cum comes out, he’d be really surprised.


	87. Lucio - The Perils of Bathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Been binging some good hybrid au shit and taking a break from work so...ENJOY

What if puppy!Lucio isn’t very fond of baths and gets super nervous and skittish whenever it’s time for a shower? He’ll whine and run and hide under your bed where you can’t reach him, forcing you to spend an hour or more just to coax him into your bathroom.

What if one day you’re forced to take a call in the middle of it. A call that makes you go cold and to feel faint. You have to go. Now. With only a pat on his head, you tell him to be good in a wobbly tone and rush out the door. 

Lucio blinks and follows you dutifully, sitting by the door and watching you lock it with droopy ears and a limp tail. The moment he can’t see you, he shifts to the window so he can watch you go with a worried look in his chocolate eyes. Why are you crying? Why are you so frantic? Did something bad happen?

He worries and whimpers at the door, curling into a ball and scratching nervously at his bare skin in anxiousness for you. But then he gets an idea after dusk starts to set. You told him to be a good boy when you left, and you definitely didn’t look like you’d be in much of a mood to bathe him when you come back. Maybe…maybe he can take a shower for you? That would make you feel better, right? You did complain that he was starting to smell…

Mind made, Lucio gulps and pads to the shower where he stares at the showerhead for an extended amount of time. Oh, he really does hate taking a shower but…he’ll do it for you. Taking a deep breath, he squeezes his eyes shut and takes the plunge.

Hours later, you’re finally home. You’re emotionally exhausted and physically drained at this point, barely able to shuck off your shoes and jacket before you stumble into the bedroom where you hope you’ll find Lucio. That call really messed you up and you need some sweet loving from your cute puppy. 

“Lucio, I’m ho-” You’re cut off by your own gasp when you see a damp doggy slumped by the doorjamb to your bathroom. He peers up at you with puppy dog eyes, curling into himself and whimpering that he just wanted to be clean for you when you came home. 

The bathroom is pretty much soaking wet, puddles and soap suds everywhere, even on the poor pup’s hair. He doesn’t smell bad anymore, but he does look rather miserable with his fur and hair still wet and dripping. With a wet laugh and a sigh, you bundle him up and rinse him off gently, wiping his tears away with both thumbs and letting him bury his face into your shoulder. Now you’re wet too, but it’s okay because Lucio’s there with you and warming you up nicely.

“Are you mad at me?” He warbles out and looks up at you with big eyes.

Even if you were angry, you’re not sure you’d be able to resist his gorgeous eyes. “No, puppy, I’m not.” Resting your forehead against his now that you’re both towelled off and nude in bed, you gather him into your arms and cuddle him close. “I’m very impressed that you managed to take a shower without me. You’re such a good boy, do you know that?”

“I-I’m-” Lucio’s tail starts to wag furiously. “I’m a good boy?”

Grinning, you nod and kiss his forehead. “Yes, you’re a good boy. My good boy.”

Now nearly buzzing with energy and wriggling in excitement, he wraps himself around you and practically smothers you against the bed.


	88. McCree - Sit in your lap (Part 3)

After that day, you could swear that McCree’s libido goes into overdrive. Any time he sees you lounging in ‘his’ seat or even on the sofa, he starts to bite his lip and crawl over, trying to convince you to sit on his lap instead of whatever you were sitting on. It’s downright disruptive now, especially when he gets particularly demanding.

“Please, boss?” He pouts at you out of the corner of your eye as you scroll through your feed. “’m not gonna do anything.”

Ooo that’s a delicious photo. Wait, did he really say he’s not going to do anything while you’re in his lap? “And why don’t I believe you, huckleberry boy?” Eyes darting down to the twitching tent in his lap, you snort and nudge it with a foot. “Your third leg says otherwise.”

McCree bites his lip, his smouldering gaze glued to your toes pressing against his quickly hardening erection. “I ain’t ly-nggh-” His protest turns into a moan when you press harder, massaging lazily and rubbing your foot all over his monster cock. 

“Oh really?” The way he devolves into a moaning mess just from that little bit of stimulation amuses you. Well, that and the way he keeps insisting that he just wants to feel you in his lap - nothing more, nothing less. “So if I were to just rub my butt all over your cock, you’re not going to do a thing?”

The cowboy gulps and humps your foot gently, keeping his hands behind his head like the good boy he is (sometimes). “No, boss.” He takes a moment to bite his lip and let it go slowly. “I ain’t gonna do ‘nything.” 

Well, you’re going to take that as a challenge. You’re so very sure he can’t resist at least humping into your ass while you sit in his lap, if not fully begging you to touch him. “Really? Not even if I were to sit in your lap fully naked?” Handing him your phone to hold for a moment, you sling your leg over his hip to sit right in your rightful throne. He fits perfectly against you, the tops of his muscled thighs providing the most comfortable seat against your ass and thighs. His cock, now bulging out of his sweatpants obscenely, is nice and hot, a hard ridge for you to languidly rub your clit against. 

McCree whimpers with an open mouth, his tongue lolling. Oh shit. Oh shit. What did he just get himself into- ah! This feels far more heavenly than your foot, he just- he just needs you to-

“Are you really sure you’re going to sit there, nice and pretty for me to look at, while I scroll through some really, really NSFW blogs, huckleberry boy?” You purr and plaster yourself against him from crotch to cheek, teeth tugging at his earlobe as you retrieve your phone from him. “Hm?”

Swallowing, McCree wets his dry lips and turns into your neck to pant into your skin needily. He kind of has what he wanted originally - you in his lap. But he really doesn’t want to stop here. He really doesn’t. And the only way to take this to the next level is to play your game. “I ain’t gonna move, boss.” 

A cruel smile crosses your lips and you kiss him gently, sucking on his plush lower lip. “Really?”

McCree is panting loudly against your lips. “Yes, boss.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, suddenly whipping your shirt off your body. “Let’s play.” 

His chocolate eyes are glued onto your pert nipples, the curves of your breasts as they bounce with every wriggle of your body. “Boss-” he whimpers, chest heaving. “Boss.” Saliva fills his mouth. 

You laugh, only making them sway and bounce even more in a hypnotising rhythm that has McCree completely ensnared. “Come now, huckleberry boy. You’re not possibly breaking now, are you? We haven’t even started yet.”

Fire flickers in his dark eyes and he swallows thickly, wrenching his attention away from your breasts. You’ve pricked his competitive spirit; he’s not going to go down easy if he has anything to say about it. “Nah, boss.” He smirks at you and laces his hands back behind his head from where they hovered over your hips. “You do your thing, boss. I’ll just- uh. I’ll just be sitting here.”

Cute. “You do that, huckleberry boy.”


	89. Reaper - Fate

What if the first time you met Gabriel Reyes is at a BDSM party years and years ago, long before he was Blackwatch’s Commander? In a place where no one knows his professional position, he met you. He’s immediately smitten by your power, your personality, and the sheer attraction you both share. Oh, he plays with you a lot - much more than he ever does with any other dominant. But he can’t stay, not when he’s still serving in the military. 

So he comes and goes, dropping by at least once a year to be beaten black and blue and milked dry by you. It’s the best day of the year, hands down. A day where he spends several hours at your beck and call, taking your dragon tail with such vigour that you end up giving him bruises as a souvenir. An accomplishment, given his darker skin tone. 

It’s heaven on earth for Gabriel. You don’t care that he’s a soldier or that he’s there only a couple days out of the year. You only care that he’s there to make it a day for you to remember too. It’s not a relationship, he insists to himself and to others. It’s just a…mutually beneficial friendship. Yeah, that’s it. It’s not really a relationship when he only talks to you a couple of days a year and only ever about how much you’re going to wreck him.

But then he gets into Overwatch. Then he doesn’t have the time or energy to come down to where you are. It’s devastating to him; he relies on your play to get him through his training days where he can’t afford to show his belly. But there’s nothing he can do about it other than save himself just one - one - day to spend with you. It’s better than nothing, but it’s hell.

It works for a while. And then the withdrawal sets in. But then he gets promoted to Blackwatch Commander and that takes his attention away from his rising libido and increasing sexual frustration. Fucking women and pounding away at their submissive forms does nothing for him anymore. Not without the pain and the leather around his wrists and neck. 

Then something absolutely miraculous happens. Your name crosses his desk - a new hire for the communications analyst position. He’s breathless, hoping against hope, because he doesn’t know your real name, but by god does he know your face. Knows your smouldering gaze even in a cold passport-sized photo. It’s not nepotism when you’ve already been hired. It’s not. It’s also a coincidence that you’ll be working somewhat closely, but not to a point where they’d suspect anything more than a working relationship between you. But he’s so determined not to leave it at that. Not when he finally has you close.

You don’t seem to recognise him when he first sees you again. Gabriel’s not surprised; he does have a permanent resting bitch face while at work and he has his trusty beanie on. Plus, the uniform makes him look a lot more dangerous than he usually would in the nude. But when you do recognise him, his knees go weak at the way you undress him with your eyes the moment the both of you are alone. 

“Looking good, Reaper,” you quip with a bite of your lip. “You look much better in your uniform than I ever imagined.”

“Yeah?” He grins and rounds the desk eagerly. “You imagined me in my uniform, huh?” Crossing his arms over his chest, Gabriel makes sure to flex his arms and emphasise the sheer size of his biceps to draw your gaze. Oh, and cross his ankles too just to show you how his trousers tighten over his thick thighs.

Raising a finger to your lip, you stand your ground but imagine scratching your way down those thighs and feeling his arms around you. You’re not going to risk being unprofessional on your first day, but hell is he making it difficult. “Hard not to, soldier boy,” you murmur and turn to the door. “Well, good seeing you again, Reaper.” You stop and scratch your head. “I should be calling you Commander Reyes now though, shouldn’t I?”

Gabriel laughs and nods. “Commander Reyes in the streets, Reaper in the sheets, ma’am.” 

Cheeky. Shaking your head, you leave, but not without a promise to see him when your off-days coincide. “I want to pick up where we left off last time.”

Excitement suffuses his being, sending a shiver down his spine and settling right in his groin. “With the claws and the wax?” You ran out of time and energy at the last party - too much impact play on your end and too much stimulation on his.

A cruel grin crosses your face. “The claws, the wax.” Tossing a heated gaze at his tenting pants, you pull yourself together and continue. “Maybe some fire and some ice too. Need to get those perky nipples nice and tight for my new clamps.”

Gabriel has to squeeze his thighs shut to stop himself from grabbing his cock for some relief. “Y-yeah, that sounds fucking good.” Good thing he has a lunch break in a bit, he could use a good half hour of edging before he cums.

Blowing a kiss at him, you finally take your leave with a laugh. 

He’s going to make sure you both are on leave this weekend. Oh, he’s going to kill to make sure you’re both free.


	90. McCree - Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> based off of a prompt by Imagine-this-overwatch about a puppy!Cree getting separation anxiety after reader goes off on a trip and resorts to sleeping in her bed for comfort. Gets a bit sad i think.

Pup!Cree doesn’t come across as a boy who is needy and starved of affection. Not when he struts around like he owns the place and flirts back with gusto. Well, if you did think he’s not the needy sort, you’re quickly reassessing your opinion when the poor pup hangs off your legs as you pile your bags next to the door.

“Where are you going?” He pouts up at you, ears and tail drooping. “How long are you gonna be gone for?” How long as you going to leave him alone?

You laugh at his wobbling lip and pet him lovingly. “Just two days, doggy. You can last that long without me, can’t you?”

Two days? That’s…that’s nearly an eternity! “I’ll die before you get home,” he wails and hugs you tighter, trying his best to imitate a python to stop you from leaving. “That’s too long.”

While endearing, his antics are delaying your departure and you really did need to go now. With a sigh and a quick kiss, you quickly wrench him off you and pass him a pillow you keep in your car just for him. “Sorry, doggy. You’re going to have to put your big boy pants on for two days until I get back. Be good, alright Jesse?” Before he can recover from your hurried kiss, you rush out the door and lock it behind you, waving at your pet from the car window as you speed off.

Now, McCree is all alone in this big house, left staring at the door on his knees - just where you left him. Whining and pawing at the door uselessly, he leans against the wood and fights back the tension building in his chest. Okay, just two days, he can do this! You’ll be back in a heartbeat! He can be a big pup and take care of himself until you get back and-

He makes it to your bedroom to make the bed before your scent hits him right in the nose. And just like that, he crumbles again. But-but what if you don’t come back? Are you going to abandon him again? Surely not, right! He’s been a good boy for you, he hasn’t destroyed anything in the house for a month and he didn’t chew on your favourite heels. Heck, he even refrained from begging for scraps at the table! That’s what a good boy does, right? You’re not possibly going to leave a good boy behind, right?

Deep, even breaths quickly become nigh hyperventilating. McCree is starting to panic a little bit. What if you don’t come back. What if you decided to abandon him like his previous owners? What if what if what if-

It’s nonsense, he knows that. You love him more than anything else in the world, as you said countless times ever since you brought him home from the shelter. He can ride this out, he knows he can. He just needs a little bit of comfort for the moment. Just something to make him think you’re still here.

With that in mind, he sheds his clothes and crawls into your bed, rolling around in the sheets and burying his nose in your pillow to take in deep lungfuls of your comforting scent. In mere minutes his anxiety dies down bit by bit, soothing his breathing and his frantic heartbeat until he’s dozing quietly under your heavy duvet. 

Yeah, you’ll be back. Just two days. Just…just two days.


	91. Genji - Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genji version of the previous chapter :3

What was supposed to be a day trip has turned into a three-day nightmare. Genji curls despondently into the messily made nest as he mourns your fading scent. The sheets and blankets and pillows smell more like him than it does of you now, sending him into a deep funk that he’s not sure he can climb out of on his own. All the linens that you’ve touched are hoarded onto your bed, pooling around him and making up for your absence somewhat.

But as comfortable as his nest is, it doesn’t replace your warmth and your reassuring presence. And has he mentioned that his nest doesn’t really smell like you anymore? Because it doesn’t. And it’s driving him mad. 

The first few hours of making his nest were heaven save for the near-crippling separation anxiety that made him act almost embarrassingly clingy. He went about collecting every piece of soft material that even remotely smelled like you and piled it on the bed, crawling into it soon after to burrow deep within its depths. It was sort of what cat-nip would be to him if there was ever a version that could affect him, and he rolled around in its softness up until twilight when he expected you to return. 

When you didn’t, he first got anxious again. Did you leave him? Did you decide not to come back?

Luckily for his sanity, you texted him saying that you’ll be delayed for a further two days and that you were really sorry. That you’ll make it up to him when you get back. He remembers nearly tearing up in relief that you haven’t abandoned him, instead replying that you’ll make it up to him indeed. Seeing your text soothes him a little, but soon he’s back to his old ways of worrying and fidgeting and letting his mind go down that forbidden rabbit hole. 

The nest helps a little. Keyword: a little. He squirms in it and ruts into your panties and takes his showers with your toiletries. Anything to make him smell like you and make him think that you’re still there. Heck, he even fires up the electric blanket for some additional warmth. 

Hour by hour, day by day, and by now the nest isn’t helping at all. He paces up and down the halls of your house, checking the window and the door for any sign of your arrival. You’re due back any moment now - you even texted him to say that you’re in the home stretch. Any moment now. Any. Moment. 

He sits before the door, ears perked and eyes glued to the stained glass for any sign of a shadow approaching the stoop. The light dims and his pupils dilate. How long has he been sitting there? A few minutes? A few hours? He loses time while he waits with bated breath, his hands twitching every time he hears something outside the door.

It must have been only fifteen minutes, but to him, it felt like an eternity before his sharp hearing picks up your car pulling into the driveway and your distinct footsteps approaching the door. Shaking and nearly limp with relief, he can’t do much other than lean against the wall and howl with happiness the moment you open the door.

“I’m home-Genji! What are you doing on the floor, you silly pup!” You admonish him with a tired smile and drop your bag, just in time to catch him as he throws himself at your legs with slightly teary eyes.

“You’re home!” It’s almost a sob but he’ll never admit it. “Welcome home.”

You’re home. You’re home. And now, he’s home.


	92. Genji - Attractive

Hey, what if Genji goes completely celibate after his revival/healing in Blackwatch. Like full on asexual, does not find anyone attractive, does not find himself attractive, busy af, can’t be bothered to masturbate and find a partner. He honestly thinks he’s broken.

Fast forward ten years and he still struggles to even think about himself sexually until he met you. It’s a pretty slow thing, like the slow burn to end all slow burns. You two dance around each other like a fucking merry go round until someone snaps and locks you two in a closet together.

Like the dumbass he is he goes along with it and sits in the dark next to you even though he can kick down the door no problem. Well, turns out it’s a good thing he did because you confessed you find him smoking hot. Robo ass and sharp edges and all. Genji’s taken aback - you got some fetish or something?

Ok first of all, rude. Second of all, he’s still hot as fuck and no one will convince you that he doesn’t have the best ass in all of overwatch. That bubble butt looks better than Soldier’s (who mysteriously still has a firmer ass than most guys half his age, go figure).

Now he preens a bit. Yes, he does have a magnificent ass, thank you. But he still doesn’t really believe you can find him attractive.

Is that a throw down? Is that a fucking throw down. Challenge accepted.

From then on, you go to great lengths to flirt and make sure he knows your panties are permanently soaked when he’s around, that you would honestly give your left arm just to suck him off.

Genji’s flattered and more than a little bit flustered. No one has paid him this much attention since…since the days when he would have an entourage of women happy to please him. It makes him feel warm and wriggly inside. So much so that he responds in kind to you, teasing you and riling you up.

It’s an addicting game to the both of you. At least, until you break. The first time you pinned him to the wall and gave him a making out session to remember, Genji had a hard on so fast he actually got light headed. Or was that because you were kissing the life out of him? Hm.

No matter, he likes it. Oh boy, he really likes it. He starts to rub up against you like a cat in heat, asking you seductively if he’s so attractive that you just can’t help yourself. He wants more. More more more. More kisses, more touches, more everything. Shit, it’s like he’s back to his old ways, but with a better partner and a much healthier world view.

And once again, you’re the first one to break. Once again he’s shoved back into a wall and pinned there with your chest and your lips. But this time, you growl at him to pop off his crotch guards because you’re gonna finally do what you’ve been waiting for all this time.

Genji is nearly vibrating with excitement as he obeys, panting like a racehorse as he watches you drop to your knees and bury your face into the crease of his hip and thigh. Oh fuck this is too hot. Really way too hot. He’s throbbing and leaking like mad already, looking like he’s about to burst even though you haven’t touched his cock.

That makes you laugh. Does he want your mouth that badly? Such a greedy boy. Extending your tongue out, you kick a wet line up the underside of his cock from balls to his tip, intending to take him in your mouth when Genji yelps and swears loudly.

“Oh no, please no-!” He tears up in humiliation when he cums just from your tongue alone, huge spurts of cum escaping his twitching cock and landing on your face, your hair, and your chest. It’s ten years of cum and orgasms that wrecks him and makes his thighs shake uncontrollably, that makes his knees buckle and drop him to the ground with his knees on either side of you. The ninja is dazed and light headed, the ringing in his ears taking forever to subside.

Shit. Fuck. That’s the hardest he’s cum ever.

And for you? Holy fuck that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry,” Genji whispers when he finally regains his senses, scrambling to put on his visor to prevent you from seeing his glowing red face. God, he’s finally what he always dreaded to be. A one pump chump. Or was it a one lick chump?

You shake your head and take his visor back off. “Don’t be sorry,” you coo at him. “That was super hot. Can you do that again?”

What?

“Do what again?” His heart is stuttering in his chest.

A predatory look crosses your face and you take hold of his wilting cock gently. “I want you to cum like that again, Genji. I want to make sure you can’t walk once I’m done with you.”

And just like that his cock flares back to life, the rush of blood from his head to his crotch leaving a tingling feeling behind. Thoroughly distracted by your hand slicking up his cock, by your other fingers cleaning his cum off your face, he can’t do much other than croak out a brain dead reply. “Fuck yes.”


	93. Reaper - Never forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally it was gonna stay on tumblr, but it had a pretty good reception so here it is on AO3 :)

Gabriel Reyes was a man who was very focused on community and caring for your neighbours. On his rare off days, he ran backyard barbeques in a nearby park and hosted fundraisers for those who needed help. Anyone and everyone knew Gabriel Reyes was the man to rely on in times of need. His community loved him and he never knew another family as tight-knit as that.

When the Blackwatch scandal came to light, his community rallied around him. He kept them safe, no matter the personal or political cost. Even if the scandal was true, they would rather stand behind a man who took care of them than a government that threw them to the side. 

When he died, they were devastated. The strongest pillar in their community - gone, just like that. In his honour, they painted murals and kept him in their prayers, keeping his memory alive even when the world wanted to bury him. Men and women alike wanted to walk in his footsteps. Children sang songs about his triumphs and his sorrows. Grandmothers fussed over his recipes and immortalised them in their kitchens. 

Those who walk the alleyways of LA marvel at the beautiful artwork covering the brick and cement, depicting awe-inspiring stories that flow from street to street. But the city was not so kind. For the years after Gabriel’s death, they fought to destroy and paint over those murals, trying to erase the man who brought shame to their country. But LA refused to die. They bound together and rose as one, turning their streets and walls into a living dedication of those who they lost, those who they refuse to forget. 

That is where Reaper stands now. Masked, hooded, shadowed. Hidden away from romping children and watchful parents. He stands in the darkness quietly, dead eyes full of sorrow and a lump in his throat as he observes the fruits of his loving labour. 

He closes his eyes and turns into smoke. 

What a beautiful city.


	94. Soldier 76 - Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the previous Reaper fic.

Sometimes when Soldier 76 feels more like a broken Jack Morrison, he goes to the city of angels remind himself of why he’s still fighting. The murals of his old friend make his heart clench and his chest ache at the emptiness beside him. Seeing how the people here remember his fellow commander for the man he was, and not the boogieman the media made him out to be, warms his frigid heart ever so slightly. 

When he comes, the children always know. They titter and flock around him, offering him little snacks their mothers and grandmothers made, trying to make him feel welcome in their little community. His identity is an open secret amongst them, but they will never give him up to anyone who asks. The children call him Uncle, their parents call him Brother, and their elders call him Son. They wrap him in kindness that he had forgotten how to give; in warmth that never seeps into his old bones. 

In his weakness, Jack finds himself sitting at community centres filled with families gathering together for dinner. Lets himself embrace the sense of family that he thought he’d never feel again. Lets himself talk to mothers who chide him for not taking care of himself, lets himself talk to fathers who sit with him in silence when he doesn’t want to talk, lets himself listen to elders who want to know how much the world has changed. The children don’t want more from him than his company, happily playing around him and using him in their games. 

He feels a bit more human every time he comes and stays. But he always leaves. A vigilante like him must not be caught in the open, especially not in a place that’s so dear to his heart. And so in the middle of the night, he steals away from wherever he’s given shelter for the night, putting on his gear as he moves through the alleyways to make it to his next destination.

As he reaches the border of the neighbourhood, he stops. Takes a deep breath. Turns and presses his hand against the mural of Gabriel smiling and telling him to stay safe. A sight every adult and child sees as they leave. It’s comforting, to press his hand against his lost friend’s and pretend he can feel the incredible heat emanating from the latino’s body. 

“Don’t die on me, farmer Jack.”

“I won’t.”


	95. Genji - Flavoured lube

“Hey, put this on.”

Genji rouses from his ‘meditation’ and rolls his head around to look at you upside down. “Hmmmm?” A gag, blindfold, and collar are tossed onto his chest and he looks at them with a raised brow. “What’s this for?”

From the other room, you yell at him to just put it on since you have your hands full. The ninja obliges, gnawing on the rubber ball that tastes more like saliva than it does rubber at this point. The collar goes on next after he strips off his crotch guard and all other pieces of his armour that can be removed, and after that the blindfold. It’s soft around his eyes and he lies back with his arms crossed over his chest. Faintly, he hears you rummage around in your office and wonders what exactly you’re doing. But it doesn’t sound like you’re able to find what you’re looking for, so maaaaaybe you won’t mind if he takes a little nap. 

(a few moments later)

A sharp ‘a-HA’ startles him and he groans. 

A cool bottle is dropped onto his chest, startling him again when he’s far too distracted by feeling you step over him to sit between his legs. For a second, he actually forgets the gag as he tries to ask what the mystery item is. Unfortunately for him, it sounds more like a garbled gurgle than anything coherent, though you kind of get what he’s trying to say.

“You’re oddly curious today.” You laugh, strip off, and uncap the bottle to let him take a whiff. 

His nose twitches as he takes several wary sniffs, then a few more inquisitive ones before he tries to wriggle his tongue out from under the gag to see if he can get a taste. Giggling, you indulge him and squeeze a little onto your finger, swiping it across his little pink tongue as it peeks out from between the red gag and his stretched lips. 

It takes only a moment for him to discover that it tastes something like chocolate mint. And that it doesn’t have that cooling feeling, much to his dismay. You note his approving purr and set the open bottle aside. “Like it?”

Genji nods with a growing erection, ideas about how you’re going to use it percolating in his head. If it’s flavoured lube and it doesn’t taste all too bad…are you going to lick it off him? Oh dragons, he hopes you’re going to lick it off him. Then, the question would be…where?

You see him getting visibly more and more excited and grin, quickly turning him over to secure his arms to his back in case he gets any ideas. You don’t want this going any way but your way. Genji groans at you, wanting so badly to touch you but relents when you roll him back over to handle his cock roughly.

Even that coarse touch makes him moan and wriggle, knees spreading wide to show you everything that belongs to you. His cock, quickly growing and swelling in your grip, pulsates when he hears you pick up the bottle and squeeze a healthy dollop into your hand. 

The liquid is cool in your palm, spurring you to spread it in your hands to warm it before you…apply it. Liberally.

Genji’s back arches with a loud moan as you use both hands to slick up and down his raging cock, twisting and squeezing so beautifully that he can’t help but hump into your grip. As slick as your hands are, he slides right through with an obscene sucking sound. 

Ah, but his cock can be a lot slicker, you think, and you thrust one hand to his face to wipe yourself off on his cheeks and mouth. “Gotta put my cumrag to good use, don’t I, Genji?” You purr as you watch him clean off his lower lip, though it doesn’t stop the thin trail of drool from slipping out the corner of his mouth. “And that’s what you are, baby. My personal cum rag and dildo. All tied up and helpless. I bet if I wanted to milk you dry, there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Your words are evidently riling him up if his laboured breathing and whimpers are anything to go by. With your now clean hand, you squeeze at least a quarter of the bottle straight onto his twitching cock, making it look like he’s drooling rivers of precum right down his fat shaft. 

He arches his back, feet scrabbling by your sides, cock twitching and pulsating madly in your grip. Muffled pleas are made wet by the copious amounts of saliva leaking out from his mouth. Usually, he likes a dryer handjob, but fuck this is insanely hot! So hot that he can’t help but rock his hips up into your hand and marvel at how easily he slides through your grip and how much more sensitive his skin feels.

“I think that’s enough for now,” you mutter to yourself. There’s a snap of the cap. A soft thump on the floorboards by his hip. “Oh boy, I can’t believe I forgot this in the back of my drawer.”

Is that why you were taking so long. Well, that explains i-

“Aah!” Genji yelps and wrenches up, feeling your tongue lick up the underside of his cock in a slow, maddening slide. Your hands splay out over his crotch to keep his cock upright while pinning his hips to the floor, letting you feel every throb and clench of his balls as you lick the chocolate-y mint-ey lube right off his cock. “NNnnnngHH.” The ninja is moaning uncontrollably, thighs trembling beside your shoulders as he weathers your questing tongue as it cleans off the bottom half of his cock. 

Even his balls get some attention. Since some slid down the seam of his sack and pooled under him, you suck his balls into your mouth and clean them off properly with your tongue, tasting his clean sweat and the sweetness of the chocolate mingling together on your taste buds. It’s a pretty good combination, if you do say so yourself.

Genji, too, agrees. He whimpers when you let his ‘nads go with a pop, but is soon mollified by your hands slicking up the clean part of his cock again. Slowly but surely, you’re driving him to his edge far quicker than you ever did before. He arches his back and thrashes his head when you get to the mushroom cap of his head, when you slip your tongue right under that lip to clean off the lube stuck in there. 

The apple of his throat bobs as he takes quick breaths and hasty swallows, trying to keep his airway clear when he’s so busy whimpering and moaning like a whore. Behind him, his hands wring each other and the rope strains against his strength, pressing marks into his flesh hand and leaving the other to feel the delicious pressure against his synthetic skin. 

Between his legs, you’re working away at sucking his soul out through his cock. Your man is uncut, lucky for you, and you stroke him a couple of times to see the lube spread across his shiny head as his foreskin slicks up and down. Eventually, you’re bored of just licking and sucking at his fat cock; you want that in your mouth right now.

Genji, with his eyes blindfolded, never sees it coming. He wheezes thinly when you sink right down until your lips are touching his balls and your nose is buried in his wispy pubic hair. Your throat greedily swallows at the head of his cock as you fight your gag reflex, trying to take him deeper and deeper until your slave is writhing beneath you, begging for release or for mercy through his gag. 

Pulling back a little, you give him a little break while you suck at his cock, treating it like a particularly delicious popsicle that keeps melting no matter how fast you drag your tongue up the sides. Under your hands, you can feel his balls pull up tight against his body and the way he does a full-body shiver. He’s close, you can tell, but you don’t want your fun to be over just get.

“Don’t cum, Genji,” you warn him with a stern tone. “I don’t want all this nice tasting lube to be ruined with your cum, you hear me?”

Don’t cum? Are you insane? Or maybe you’re just cruel There’s no way he can not cum with the way you’re stroking and licking and sucking at his cock. “I can’t.” He tries to say. “I can’t stop it.” As before, his begging comes across as more grunting and groaning than coherent words, and his eyes go wide under the satin as you double your efforts to ‘clean up’ the lube on his cock.

“Sorry, I don’t think I understood you.” Your taunting comes after another round of deepthroating, thrusting him further into subspace as you tease his slit with a well-lubed finger. “But in any case, sex toys don’t get to choose, do they? Now, don’t cum. If you do, you’re going to be in for a world of hurt.”

Genji squirms and bucks his hips once, biting down harshly on the gag to cram his orgasm back back back where it’s not going to slip out accidentally. Normally he wouldn’t mind your punishments, but recently you’ve been particularly creative and he really doesn’t want to push you. 

Despite your orders not to cum, you seem determined to make him spill his load. Really determined. A finger slips into his ass without warning, wriggling around and swirling as though you’re trying to find his prostate. That’s a lie, you know exactly where it is-! 

His knees jerk up and spread wide, his ass rocking against your finger and your mouth to milk your torture for everything it’s worth. If he’s going to go down, might as well go down with a bang. Lithe hips gently thrust back and forth, helping you delve deeper and deeper until Genji is sobbing at the feeling of your throat clenching down on his needy cock. 

By now you’re not just licking up the remnants of the chocolate mint lube, you’re also cleaning up his pre-cum that’s mixed with the lube. Your free hand, now dry after the water has evaporated, rise up south to play with his pebbled nipple, pinching and pulling until he adopts an alarmed expression on his face, brow scrunching and jaw dropping - the telltale sign that he’s just about to cum. 

Gurgled, unintelligible shouts come from behind the gag, pleas or warnings you’re not quite sure, but you do know that one phrase in there is him telling you he can’t hold it back. And sure enough, his cock surges in your mouth, swelling up impossibly larger and throbbing uncontrollably as his orgasm hits him like a train.

He howls out his orgasm, back arching high off the floor and his thighs stretched wide, long, strong spurts of cum filling your mouth as you keep your lips sealed around his head to keep sucking even though his orgasm is wrecking him. You have to fight to keep it in your mouth though; it almost throbs out of the grip of your lips. His ass, too, clamps down hard on your finger, pressing it even harder against the now thick knot of his sweet spot. 

Genji tears up from the intensity of the pleasure that wipes his mind clean, his thighs trembling and belly twitching as you open your mouth to let his pearly cum leak back out over his cock. Now that you look at it, it kind of looks like you upended the bottle over his dick. 

But okay, here comes the nice dom. You crawl up over his body and remove his blindfold and gag, enjoying the cum-drunk expression on his face and the dampness of his chin. There’s the faint scent of chocolate mint lingering on his face, and you take the opportunity to lick his cheek and taste the lube you smeared all over him earlier. 

“How was that?”

Genji stirs dazedly, unfocused eyes rolling into the back of his head before he blinks and looks up at you. His throat bobs. “G-good.”

You smile at how adorable he looks. “Yeah? How good.”

Your toy licks his lips and tastes the remnants of the lube on his lips and those eyes go hazy again. “’I’d so do that again’ good.”

With a grin, you tap the half-full bottle against his cheek. “That can be arranged.”


	96. Blackwatch boys - I like big butts, I can not lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twerktwerktwerk

“This is embarrassing,” Genji groans from where he’s pinned under his commander and his comrade. The sparkly green tights he’s wearing are even brighter than Moira’s forehead, which is saying something. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Commander Gabriel Reyes rolls his eyes from where he’s sitting on the cyborg’s back. He stuffs a galaxy-fabric clad knee into the assassin’s neck when he tries to struggle up again. “Plus, you know it’ll make her laugh.”

The sullen ninja glares up at the older man. “And _that’s_ not embarrassing?”

McCree chimes in then, slapping his friend’s bubble butt, “At least she’ll fuck us after she laughs.” The cowboy has to admit that the cactus patterned tights look damn cute on him. Maybe you’d be inclined to agree? Oh god, he can’t wait to show you.

A pause.

“Good point.”

Gabriel laughs at Genji’s defeated slump and hauls both men, boys really, up by the scruff of their necks. “Back in position, men.”

Genji grumbles but takes his place, McCree beside him, with their commander at the head of their formation. As one, they go into a deep squat and brace their hands on their thighs to the beat of the music. 

“Ready… 5, 6, 7, 8- shake it boys!” 

_I like big butts and I can not lie_

__

_You other brothers can’t deny_

__

_That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist_

__

_And a round thing in your face_

__

_You get sprung, want to pull up tough_

Their tight leggings pull across their asses as they dance to the music, the fleshy globes bouncing up and down with differing passion. Gabriel is into it. He arches his back and doesn’t let his incredible bulk stop him from letting it bounce. McCree is equally as energetic and passionate, although he’s far less flexible and looks more like he’s jumping up and down on his heels than anything, but it’s the thought that counts, right? And Genji. Ah, poor cyborg still hasn’t quite grasped how to twerk to the music, but he is making a rather valiant effort. Turns out gymnastics on the field don’t count on the dance floor with his new body.

_‘Cause you notice that butt was stuffed_

__

_Deep in the jeans she’s wearing_

__

_I’m hooked and I can’t stop staring_

__

_Oh, baby, I want to get wit’cha_

As one, they turn around, backing up and bending down until they touch their ankles. It emphasises the roundness of their rears, how tight and toned they are and how much flesh makes them soft despite their athleticism. Reaching out, they brace themselves and get on all fours, bouncing their asses up and down in a hypnotic rhythm that makes even Genji feel rather turned on.

_And take your picture_

__

_My homeboys tried to warn me_

__

_But with that butt you got makes (me so horny)_

__

_Ooh, Rump-o’-smooth-skin_

__

_You say you want to get in my Benz?_

“Remember, soldiers, you gotta make her want to fuck your ass,” Gabriel barks and swirls his hips around, spreading his legs wider to show Genji and McCree what he means. “If she isn’t grabbing you by this point, you’re doing it wrong.”

“She always wants to grab our ass, though,” McCree quips with a smile and carries on with the routine with an ease that confuses Genji. Meanwhile, the ninja remains quiet as he focuses on trying to make his bubble butt bounce as much as his commander’s. Goddamn it, he has the nicest butt out of all of them, why isn’t it looking right???

“True.” 

They finish out the dance routine with a huff and with several complaints from the younger men who fall onto the floor once the music peters out. Gabriel stretches his back and looks at Genji who slumps with his face on the floor, ass up in the position he ended in. McCree is sitting with his hands braced behind him, rubbing his thighs and muttering how he didn’t expect it to be this much of a workout.

Well, he’s somewhat satisfied. You’d probably be too busy laughing or groping them to really bother about technique. “Alright men, we’re as ready as we’re going to be.” Two thumbs up from the casualties. “Remember, 1800 hours on the dot. I’ll give you guys some oil so you need to smear it on your chest - Genji, you’re exempted - make it nice and shiny, got it? Bring your tights and _don’t change it out for another one_.” Gabriel glares at Genji, who returns the venomous look. “It looks cute and she picked it out for you.”

“As a _joke_.”

The commander waves his hand. Eh, specifics. “Doesn’t matter. And remember, you have to-”

“Make her want to fuck our ass,” Genji and McCree chime together in a duet of accents that don’t actually sound too bad. Gabriel grins and crosses his arms in satisfaction.

Oh boy, you’re not going to see this coming. And Gabriel definitely wants an opportunity to stuff his butt in your face, yes siree.


	97. McCree - Fear

I wonder if McCree ever gets scared when he has to carry you away from the battlefield. Carry your small, limp form, with blood gushing from the multitude of wounds and marks upon your skin. In his burly arms, you’re tiny, so far from the larger than life mistress that he serves with such dedication. 

When he passes you over to Angela and Zenyatta, does he look at his bloodied hands and starts to clench his jaw to prevent tears from slipping from his eyes? Does he charge back into battle with fire in his hazel eyes, hunting for the one who brought you down, wanting to take their head and present it to you with a bloodied, victorious grin? 

Maybe Genji has to snap him out of his red-hazed rampage. Maybe Reinhardt has to follow him into the fray to keep him from falling prey to the same sniper as you did. Maybe Lucio has to dart in to keep him on track, to stop him chasing after stragglers that lead him down lonely alleyways that might leave him vulnerable to ambush.

Does McCree, when everything is said and done, stagger back to the Orca with hastily fixed hair and looking as though there’s nary a scratch on him? Maybe he’ll keep the ugly bruise over his back under wraps as he tends to you in the infirmary once you’re given a bed. Maybe he’ll stop himself from wincing when you slap his head over keeping his pain from you. 

And when you pull him to your chest and hold him tight, taking the hat from his head to put it on yours, he breaks. He screws his eyes shut and buries his face into your shoulder, telling you that he isn’t letting another person slip out of his life. He can’t do it again. He can’t.


	98. Hanzo - Bump in the night

There are many who fear that which goes bump in the night. You are not one of them.

The door creaks open ever so slowly, closing equally as quietly just before something slithers into your bed. There are no footsteps to herald its arrival, only the smell of the forest and something not unlike ashes. You rouse gingerly, stretching your arms upward and finding them obstructed by the hard horns of the being that lounges beside you.

“You look comfortable,” it, no, he rumbles with affection, curling his trunk-like arms around you. His grey skin and glowing white eyes would scare anyone else, but you merely grunt and burrow your face into his bare neck. 

“Less talk, more sleep.”

He chuckles but obliges, wrapping himself around you. The shifting of his head, however, makes you even grumpier when his muscled body moves with his fidgeting. 

Huffing, you yank him downwards until his cheek is pillowed on your shoulder, allowing his horns to rest comfortably over the curve of your neck. The demon purrs in satisfaction and cuddles closer, the angry red markings of the oni on his left arm dimming as he settles in to rest beside you. 

When morning comes he will be gone again, as the creature is wont to do, but for now, you have his searing hot body warming you in the bitter cold of winter. 

“Would you like okayu (porridge) in the morning?”

“Sleep, Hanzo.”


	99. Reaper - Hand holding

Reaper is very mercurial when it comes to holding hands. 

One day he might ghost up next to you and slide his clawed hand in yours, lacing your fingers together sweetly. His palm is cold but his grip is sure, making you smile a secret smile at him as you take the scenic route to your destination. The wraith-like man trails beside you with stilted steps, as though he’s struggling not to outpace you. 

But some days he’d rather not touch you at all. You’re not really the PDA sort, lucky for him, and you oblige by not letting your hands touch when he starts to walk a little closer to you than he normally does. It makes a bubble of affection well up in you when he keeps trying to stay close even on days when he can’t stand being touched.


	100. Hanzo & Genji - Bells

I was just thinking about my cat at home and how he’s mastered the art of walking silently despite having a bell on his collar. Literally the only time I hear him is when he’s jumping my fence or counter. (My dog can’t say the same, poor girl)

I bet Hanzo and Genji will be the same, adjusting to their bells so quickly that it kinda defeats the purpose of making them wear the bells in the first place. They can slink into the room and lounge on your bed, blinking at you when you jump at finding them appearing out of the darkness.

Maybe you make them wear bigger and bigger bells to see if they can still walk quietly. And they do! Bloody ninjas. Idk maybe two bells? Yeah that seems to work a little better. There’s a tiny little jingle when they walk around. Not much though, but you’ll take what you can get.

In bed, it’s a totally different story. Jingling and chiming galore when they fuck you so hard the bed thumps against the wall. That’s the best thing about being sandwiched between them - hearing them pant in each ear and the gentle tinkling of the bells on their collar as they start to forget the bells are ever there.


	101. Hanzo - Heats and Ruts

During a hybrid’s heat/rut, we all know that they won’t stop until they nut and fill you to the brim with your seed. But what if you, as the owner, go into a heat of your own? Spurred by your boy Hanzo’s fierce desire to make sure you don’t know where he ends and you begin, you get super horny too. 

In fact, you get so horny that when he finally knots you after some time of frantically fucking you, you’re not satisfied by his admittedly admirable effort. You’re on the brink of orgasm when he shoves his knot inside you and cums, leaving you hanging as he trembles to a stop and pins you in place.

Ah, but you’ve prepared yourself for this.

Vibrator to the rescue! Hanzo shivers when he sees you let it buzz to life - in anticipation or in fear, you have no idea. But at this point, you don’t really care either. You press the head to your clit and moan in relief, rocking on his knot and digging the nails of your free hand into his ass to keep him balls deep at all times. In a matter of seconds, the powerful vibrator sends you over the edge and you cum with a cry that’s quickly echoed by Hanzo’s high pitched whimpers when you clench and milk his trapped cock.

Unfortunately for your toy boy, you don’t stop there. Why have just one orgasm when you can have as many as you want? Especially since you have him right where you want him. 

Immediately, Hanzo starts to beg for mercy, trying to dislodge his huge knot from your clenching pussy desperately. No more, no more, he can’t take any more! It’s getting too sensitive and -

With a howl, the wolfdog orgasms out of the blue, his knot swelling back up and keeping him locked in to prevent his new wave of cum from slipping out of you. You laugh and wind your legs around him. 

“Too bad, doggy,” you tut at him, pressing the vibe back onto your throbbing clit so you can clamp down on him again.

“Please,” he begs with tears in his eyes. “Please, it’s too sensiti-” 

Hmmm…

Maybe after one more.


	102. Genji - Step on me

Genji always tells you not to shy away from putting more weight on him. With his armour and his body mods, he can take the force of a hurtling truck to his chest and not flinch. 

Step on him as hard as you’d like, he will strain to sit up and kiss your leg wherever he can reach, a devious smile on his devastatingly handsome features. You lean down and forward, putting more and more weight on him until he is utterly pinned under your foot. The ninja can only lick his lips and curl his hands around your ankle - to support, to touch, to connect. 

His dark eyes travel up the long line of your leg, up between your thighs and to the dark crux of your legs that hides his most favourite place. It’s covered by your skirt and your panties, but the damp spot over your lips is hard to miss. He licks his own lips, imagining your taste blooming over his tongue and filling his nose, his mouth, until all he can feel and taste is you.

Quietly he begs. Politely. Obscenely. Saccharine sweet and full of dark seduction. His fingers squeeze your ankle and tickle up and down your calves and rest in the sensitive underside of your knees, caressing gently and telling you it could be his tongue instead of his fingers. 

Instead of giving him what he wants, the greedy boy, you move your foot and press the toes against his metal jaw, telling him that if he’s a good boy, he might get to do all that. But first, he needs to shine your shoe. With his spit. 

Genji smiles, hands moving to close over the top of your foot and the back of your heel. Oh, he can do that. As he sucks on the leather, he closes his eyes and groans as you step on his face to make sure he behaves. Oh, he’ll be such a good boy, you’ll see.


	103. Genji - Should've Known Better

Imagine when you’re first dating Genji, he’s convinced that because you seem so quiet and gentle and unassuming that you’ll be a bottom bitch. When he starts kissing and holding you, you’re melting in his arms and hanging off his strong frame, softer form moulding against his armour. Your kisses are intoxicating and he loves it, but deep down inside he’s a bit disappointed that you’re not fiercer and the take charge sort. Oh well, it’s okay, he’ll have a lot of fun with you regardless.

But inside, you’re laughing a little at how he thinks you’re gonna lie there and take it. You don’t know that he’s disappointed, but you do know he’s in for a surprise when he actually gets in bed with you. The first time you actually get him on a bed, you push him down and straddle his hips right off the bat, helping him take off his helmet gently but firmly. 

When his face is revealed, his eyes are wide and he’s blushing so prettily that you can’t help but giggle and tap his nose. 

“Did you really think I’ll roll over and take it?” 

He gulps, nods nervously. Good, there’s a reason for him to be nervous. By the time you’re done with him, he’s a mess of a cyborg, armour all ripped off him and kiss marks littering what skin he does have. His cock is soft and red as a cherry, soaking wet from your juices and his cum that have frothed up at the base of his cock. Genji’s eyes are all wonky, still rolling in his head as he tries to focus, and his eyelashes flutter up and down uncontrollably. 

Yes, you think, there was a real reason for him to be nervous. Well, at least now he knows better.


	104. Mercy - Trauma

Do you think Angela ever cringes inwardly when she sees Genji for his yearly checkups? Torbjorn is always there to help her check his cybernetics and prosthetics, helping her remove his arm and legs and check that everything is in working order. 

She’s professional, she always is, but somewhere inside her she just sees that poor boy, not much older than her, floating in pieces in her heal tank. Doesn’t see the man who is finally at peace with who and what he is, who lazily dozes as they leave him to lie on the bed while they run their checks.

She remembers that she never expected him to survive, no matter what Moira said. She remembers trembling for the first time as she decides that she can’t salvage his legs, some of his organs, his arm, his jaw, his eyes. She remembers crumbling after surgery out of fatigue and emotional exhaustion, barely able to clean up and shuck her scrubs before she cries out of pity for the boy who will no longer be human or whole. 

Angela is used to seeing carnage and trauma by now, used to death and sorrow and helplessness, but nothing would ever compare to what she faced with Genji’s case. Now, she knows he’s fine, he’s alive, he’s as happy as can be and content with his place in life. It’s a cold comfort though, when whenever she treats him in battle his image is replaced with that of a broken body at death’s door. It haunts her every now and then, even almost a decade down the road. 

To everyone else, Angela is as fine as ever, chastising those who take their health for granted and guzzling the base’s supply of coffee and hot chocolate. But inside, maybe the good doctor isn’t as alright as she appears. Maybe she lies awake in her bunk in the infirmary at night, tossing and turning and unable to rest because of how her mind is racing. Tormenting her with the faces of those she lost and the feeling of blood coating her latex gloves. The smell of iron and sweat and tears. 

In the morning she covers up her dark circles with a thick layer of concealer, her heavy hands drawing out the wing tip of her eyeliner. She combs her hair back, slicks it into a quick ponytail, and slips on her scrubs and shoes to prepare for another day in the infirmary. Angela accepts the warm cup of coffee that Ana slides to her when she enters the kitchen, ignoring the mirroring dark circles around her former commander’s sole remaining eye. 

The two of them sip at their choice of beverage in companionable silence, united in their sleepless state and tiredness. No one else is awake at this ungodly hour, only those whose night terrors never leave them.


	105. Gabriel Reyes - Sock on a Cock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a self-indulgent piece since I'm in a shitty place rn

When you tell Gabe that you’re feeling kind of down and tired, he’s more than a little worried. He fusses over you and helps you with your house chores, showing you your favourite treat that he intended to surprise you with on the weekend.

But even then, you’re still looking tired and drawn, though you humour him by kissing him on the lips and thanking him for his thoughtfulness. That would ordinarily satisfy him, but today Gabriel’s not one to be swayed.

He frowns a little, rubs at his beard. Then, as if a lightbulb went off, he grins and tells you to wait in bed. He’s got another surprise for you.

Amused and honestly wanting to know what he’s got up his sleeve, you oblige and get into comfy clothes to recline against the pillows. It doesn’t take long, but you’re already gently snoozing with your arms crossed over your chest when the door opens to reveal your handsome soldier clad in a slinky robe that you bought for him for a laugh.

That alone makes you snort, but then he turns around and slides it seductively off his shoulder. While you’re not really in the mood for sexy times, you appreciate his efforts and give him a whistle and a growl.

Gabriel preens with his back to you, flexing his shoulders and his back muscles to show you the fruits of his long military career. And gosh, what fruits they were. He teases you by hiking the sleeve back up, then slipping it down, revealing and hiding the flesh that you so love.

Your annoyed huff is his cue to move on, and move on he does. Dramatically, he flings the silken robe off his shoulders with flare, looking far more graceful than he intended. Your eyes, though locked on his back, quickly roam over his body as he stretches his arms out wide, then turns around to face you with a…

A loud laugh breaks through your tired facade.

Is that? Is that a sock on his cock? You’re howling with laughter, curling up and writhing on the bed as Gabriel solemnly asks you if you are entertained through the stem of the rose gripped between his perfect teeth. He saunters towards you, swinging his hips from side to side and making the white sock bob around with it. It’s comedic and cramp-inducing laughter continues to pour out of you.

“D-don’t! Don’t sway it like-like that-AHAHAHAHA-” You just can’t stop laughing and giggling and snorting, gasping for breath when he reaches the bedside and squats to flop his sock-covered cock on the bed before you. Thank god it’s a clean sock.

“You mean like this?” Gabriel grins and helicopters his dick around, the hem of the sock slipping off his huge, soft girth ever so slightly. “Whoops.” He tugs it back up to the base of his cock. “Wardrobe malfunction.”

You’re pounding the mattress with your fist now, tears pouring out of your eyes from how hard you were laughing - are laughing. Anything you try to stutter out is insensible through your giggles, rendering you into a babbling mess as you try to slap away his socky-cock away from your face.

“But babe,” Gabriel cajoles you as he takes the rose from between his teeth. “You haven’t seen the best part!”

There’s no possible way this could get better, but you pry your eyes open to see that he’s pulling the sock off his cock. Only to reveal that he’s drawn a crude elephant’s face around the base of his cock, his thick manhood forming the trunk. It’s hilarious, it really is, and you can’t help but devolve into another round of hysterical giggles.

Gabriel sways it around again and it really does look like an elephant’s trunk with his foreskin covering up until only a sliver of his cockhead is showing, his heavy balls dangling behind it as he starts to buck his hips so that his cock actually hits you in the face a couple of times. Giggling and crying, you try to swat his cock away before he accidentally nails you in the eye. Unfortunately, Gabriel’s all too familiar with pain where the sun doesn’t shine and he just keeps going until his cock is covered in your tears.

“Hey hey, let the elephant dry your tears babe.” He keeps trying to wipe his cock on your cheeks and you squeal when he actually manages to wipe off a tear like that. 

“Noooooo, I don’t know where your cock has been!” You roll over, burying your face in the sheets to avoid him when he advances forward, the messily drawn elephant barging its way into your personal space. 

“LET THE ELEPHANT DRINK BABE.”

“YOUR ELEPHANT HAS LOPSIDED EARS. THE ONLY WATER IT NEEDS IS TO ERASE IT.”

“BLASPHEMY. YOU LIE. LIEEEES.”

The rose he was clenching in his teeth fall onto the pillows beside your head as he tries to nudge you over, giggles and laughs filling the air. Gods, he’ll never live this down. But honestly? Hearing you laugh and seeing you smile is worth the pain of humiliation for the rest of his days.


	106. Hanzo - Manscaping

I was just thinking that Hanzo would be the kind of dude to let go of his manscaping ever since he left the Shimada clan. Like he’d groom his beard and hair but everything under the belt? He kinda let go of that. 

The first time you fuck him you find his cock standing straight up from a respectable bush of pubic hair, and while you fuck him until you’re both drooling and a mess, you tell him that he’ll have to do some trimming and manscaping before you touch his cock and balls again.

Hanzo pouts and tries to obey, but it honestly looks all over the place and more than a little bit unsightly, so you decide to take matters into your own hands. That’s how Hanzo finds himself sitting on a towel covered plastic chair in front of you as you wield a razor and shaving cream with a bowl of water by your side.

He’s completely nude, his face flushed and his nipples perked because of how exposed he feels. He’s never been in this situation before; not with his knees wide open to accommodate you between them, your face just slightly above his half hard cock. There’s no way he can get completely hard, or so he thinks.

You wave the razor at him and instruct him to keep his legs still while you spread the cream around. It’s cold and a really odd sensation on his tender crotch, but he just shivers through it as you get a nice, thick coating around the base of his cock and on his balls. 

“Ready?”

Hanzo nods, mute with his heart in his throat. 

A grin spreads across your face at his speechlessness. So cute. Shaving his pubes around his crotch goes quickly enough; you want to get him nice and bald and smooth so you can control his manscaping. One hand angles his limp cock around every now and then, stretching the skin so you can get to all the rampant hair that’s covering his crotch. 

It shouldn’t be erotic. You shaving him with his balls and ass exposed to you shouldn’t be erotic. But Hanzo can’t help but gulp and start to pant with his teeth tightly gritted to stop his cock from hardening. 

You laugh, flicking the head of his uncut cock with your cream-slick finger. “Don’t get hard, Hanzo. It’ll make this a lot harder.”

“I can’t stop it,” he grunts, forcing himself to relax in an attempt to stop the inflation of his erection. 

“Hmm,” you hum and clean the razor off in the bucket. “Eh, I’ll just train you to have better control.” 

The threat within a promise makes him shiver and clutch at the bottom of his thighs, his abs rolling and his cock twitching at your tone. You sigh at him and tut, shaking your head, instead moving on to his balls instead of chastising him further. Well, at least an erection would help you here. It would take too much attention to keep pinning his cock up and out of the way.

“Get hard now, Hanzo,” you instruct him with a calm tone. The archer obliges with a strangled moan, his hands pulling his thighs up and out a little bit so you can get right into the nooks and crannies of his balls. You pat his thigh with a smile, praising him for his obedience even though you know it wasn’t really much of a difficulty for him to get hard.

His balls, like his cock, clench erratically as you slide the razor over his most vulnerable bits. 

“Stop moving.” 

“I cannot-!”

A slap is delivered to his inner thigh, eyes glaring up at him as you clean the razor off again. “If you don’t stop moving, I might cut you by accident. Do you want that?”

Silence. Then his cock does a fat twitch towards his stomach, a clear bead of pre-cum forming at his tip.

“Oh, you kinky bastard.” You laugh at him and continue to shave his balls, lifting it up so you can get to the skin under them, once again ignoring his fidgeting. “I’ll keep that in mind. But for now, seriously, don’t move.”

Hanzo grumbles under his breath but holds as still as he can, his breath hitching as you place your free hand on his ass cheek so you can pull the skin taut once again. 

By the time you clean up around his balls with a wet rag, Hanzo is breathing heavily with a bright blush on his face. His eyes are fully dilated, his hands tightly gripping the underside of his thighs to try and retain some of his control. You smile at the state he’s in; he’s far too cute like this, but you really need to get to his asshole.

“Turn around and brace your chest on the chair.” 

Hanzo obeys with shaky legs, barely able to slide off the chair and hug the seat without falling over. He widens his knees, stabilising himself as you tug and push him into a position to your liking. By the time you’re ready to start on his asshole, you have Hanzo on his feet instead, his stance obscenely wide and his hands pulling his ass cheeks apart. His face, flat on the wet towel, reddens further until he looks like he could cook an egg on his cheeks. 

“This-this is obscene!” Hanzo gasps at you, his fingers readjusting on his ass cheeks when you apply copious amounts of shaving cream. “Surely this isn’t necessary-!” 

A quick slap to the seat of his thighs interrupts him. “I decide what is necessary,” you huff at him, pinching his ass cheek as you start delicately shaving away the hair on his perineum and around his asshole. 

At the first touch of the razor on the crease of his ass, Hanzo gasps wetly, whimpering quietly as he feels it glide over ultra-sensitive skin and even bump against the tight star of his asshole. Here, he stays utterly still, not even breathing until he hears you cleaning the razor off in the bucket. His cock starts leaking beneath him, dripping lewdly onto the floor in tight strings as you shave and wipe away the cream, apply the cream and start shaving another spot. 

His legs tremble ever so slightly, his thighs shaking as they feel the strain of the odd position. But still he keeps his knees locked, dead set on staying here until you’re done. You’re right, he really doesn’t want to get cut here. Luckily, you’re done within a few minutes, wiping away the cream from his now squeaky clean ass and cock and balls with a satisfied hum.

“There, all clean,” you coo at his baby soft skin, tracing it with a finger. Hanzo lets out a startled moan when your finger caresses the freshly shaved skin, muscles trembling when he realises that it enhances his sensitivity to incredible levels.

“I-I-ah!” He whimpers, fingers clenching tight on his ass cheeks to keep them spread open despite the humiliation coursing through him. 

“Sensitive?” 

Hanzo nods quickly, blushing again when he feels you blow over his exposed asshole. He only faintly hears you murmur “good” before his mind is overtaken with intense pleasure, before the only thing he feels is you sucking his balls into your mouth, your tongue whirling and swirling over the tender skin. “A-Aaah!” Moans tumble out of his mouth, wet pants and needy whimpers joining them when you start stroking his ultra hard cock with one hand, while the other plays with his asshole, swirling over the tight bud and pressing gently into it. 

He must have been teetering on the edge for a while without knowing it because when you lick a line up his twitching and throbbing cock, he cums with a startled and embarrassed cry. His knees finally buckle and he drops down into a crumpled slump, hips thrusting back and forth gently as cum coats the floor beneath him in thick ropes, bits dribbling out of him as he slowly comes down from his orgasm.

As he trembles in a heap half on and half off the chair, you laugh and slap his ass in amusement. “A quick shot in bed as well as the battlefield, I see.” The taunt goes over his head as he tries to blink back the haze that settles in his vision, though he harrumphs at your laughing as you hug his back. “That’s fine, I’ll have a lot of fun with you regardless.”

Though he grumbles, Hanzo has a small smile on his kissable lips. “I’m glad you seem to enjoy my suffering.” Oof, the sarcasm is strong with this one. 

You purr deep in your chest and nod against the back of his neck, placing a gentle kiss there. “Of course, you should always suffer for my pleasure.” 

The full-bodied shiver doesn’t go unnoticed by you, not when you’re pressed up flush against him. You grin and tweak his nipples just for fun, just to feel him jerk underneath you. Heh, so cute.


	107. Hanzo & Genji - Temples

I’m not the very religious sort, but every year during the first week of the new year, I go to temple to pray - to wash away the bad luck of the past year, to give back any remaining luck, and to pray for good luck for the coming year. It’s tradition more than actually believing in the gods, but it’s always nice to believe that something is giving me luck.

I like to think that Hanzo is the same, maybe even Genji to a lesser extent. When they were young, their parents would bring them to the temple to pray and they would bond over their aching toes and stiff knees, the way their clothes and hair would smell of the ashes of joss sticks and how they would have a good meal with their parents afterwards. They would grouse at going, wondering why they had to do this when it had no actual meaning beyond superstition and belief. 

Years down the road, long after Genji’s mortal body has morphed into his metal one, long after Hanzo’s soul has wilted into something unrecognisable, they still go to the same temple. It alone stands despite the passage of time, the ladies and temple attendants looking older but none the worse for wear, welcoming in worshippers and tourists with polite smiles. 

They recognise Hanzo and hug him warmly, pushing charms and joss sticks into his hands and directing him to pray to certain gods for luck, for health, for good fortune. Hanzo, as always, pastes a wan smile on his face, lost in memories and regrets as he goes to the mentioned altars. He sinks to his knees onto the stiff cushion, head bowed and hands pressed together in prayer. What is health worth when he’s already in a downward spiral. What’s good fortune worth when he’s likely to run himself into an early grave. What’s luck worth when he’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When Genji comes, the attendants are wary but warm, offering him joss sticks for prayer and amulets for his journey henceforth. They tell him to pray to certain gods for protection, for strength, for knowledge. Genji bows his head in thanks and donates generously in their donation box as he makes his way to the shrines - repayment for the possible hand the gods played in his survival. 

When he gets to the shrines, he passes a worn man, ragged in appearance but dressed impeccably in stylish clothing. He pays the man no mind, however, as he tugs the hood of his jacket further over his helmeted head. Inside, the temple is quiet, a thin haze of smoke hovering around him and filling his senses with a sense of nostalgia. As Genji kneels, he closes his eyes and claps his hands together gently. Protection for Overwatch, for Hanzo, for himself. Strength, to see his goals through, to try and find his brother, to repair their broken relationship. Knowledge, to know when enough is enough, and when to walk away.


	108. Several - Working Out

Ever wondered if Watchpoint: Gibraltar’s gym is man/woman meat heaven? 

You’ll have Reinhardt with his shirt off, standing in front of the mirror as he deadlifts weights. His muscles will ripple with the effort, his biceps and thighs bulging as he snatches the bar up to his shoulders. His age has no impact on his strength, and though his belly has a slight pooch to it and his veins are more prominent, he looks as flawless as ever.

Reyes and Morrison would be on the treadmill, tight leggings clinging to their muscular legs and their torsos bare. They’re both running incredibly fast, their feet pounding on the belt as they go through their daily run. The stark contrast of their skin tones are even more emphasised when they start to sweat, their skin glistening in the bright light of the gym. It doesn’t matter who you turn your gaze to, they both command your attention. Gabriel with his broader, thicker figure, his shoulders wide and tapering to his slim hips. Jack with his more slender, yet no less muscular, form with his defined abs and bubble butt. Yes, no matter which way you turn, their asses bounce before your gaze. 

Hanzo would be preoccupied with the rock climbing wall. He climbs with no safety gear, no rope, no harness; only the strength of his grip and the power of his upper body propelling him up the tall wall with gravity-defying agility. His top-heavy body is powerfully built in contrast to his lithe hips and legs, but they are no less strong as they coil beneath him to allow him to spring between handholds. The muscles in his back ripples under his tanned, taut skin, gleaming with sweat as he touches the ceiling and hops his way back down.

McCree would be burning his time on the cycle, arms braced on the handles and his legs working overtime as he languidly pedals his way through his workout. He starts off slow, meandering his way until he’s a kilometre in, then he stands on the pedals and goes hard. He doesn’t have thick thighs for no reason, no siree, and it’s evident how he gets it as his legs become a blur from how fast he’s pedalling. Thanks to the tight compression pants he’s wearing, you can see every flex and clench of those glorious thigh muscles.

Genji isn’t working out so much as stretching. He occupies a mat in the corner in front of the wall of mirrors, contorting his body into back bridges, splits, plough poses, everything you can think of as he limbers his cyborg body up. It should be impossible - how flexible he is. But you have to admit, there is a sensuous grace to his movements as he sits down, legs spread apart to the sides with his hands planted on the ground before him. Then, in one cat-like motion, he slides forward all the way to the mat until his chest is flat on the floor and his helm dents the mat ever so slightly. 

Zarya, true to form, is busy lifting weights on the weight set, her tight sports bra barely containing her impressive muscles. Her face is dead set, eyes full of fire, as she starts her reps, pressing weights that some of the other men wouldn’t dare try. Sweat already coats her chiselled form, glistening on her cut abs and making her perfectly coiffed hair stick to her forehead ever so slightly as she does rep after rep after rep. When she finally stops to move on to a different station, she has to remove half the weights on the bar. She’s not going to weather more complaints about having to waste energy removing those weights.

Lucio, so small in comparison to many of the other agents in the gym, occupies the mini obstacle course that takes up about half of the hall. He zooms over the logs and swings through the bars with a grin on his face, thoroughly enjoying the exertion of the activity. His trusty headphones are securely over his ears, pumping heart-thumping music into his mind and his body to propel him faster and further. Every now and then, when he finishes one course, he stops to jam a little to the music, thinking about his next album while he does.

Fareeha would be busy with the free weights and the mats, alternating between lifting increasingly heavy barbells and doing pushups and sit-ups. She cycles through her sets with military discipline, not going more than 30 seconds between sets and not stopping until she reaches muscle fatigue. It’s always a joy to watch her since her form is immaculate and her power on display as she knocks out more pushups and situps than most men her age.

And then there’s Zenyatta juggling his orbs in the corner.


	109. McCree - Toy

Wouldn’t it be nice to have McCree as your personal toy? To have him whip out his cock at your behest or strip down to his skin whenever you want, wherever you want?

Maybe you’d be watching TV on the couch with him when you decide that you’d really like to taste his cock. Like, right now. So you tell him to drop his pants and he obliges with a blush and a wide grin, knowing exactly what you want and submitting to your stern command to keep his hands on your shoulders. You pin him back into the couch and lean down to take his cock into your mouth, letting his hefty girth stretch your lips as you go down as far as you can. 

He moans and shivers, his flesh hand fidgeting on your shoulder while his metal one stays still and digs slightly into your back. McCree can’t keep his eyes open, not even to watch you swallow his length into your welcoming mouth. How can he when you’re honestly enjoying yourself by licking at his thickness like a lollipop? 

You love how he feels and tastes and it shows. You moan and purr as you suck at his shaft and flick your tongue along the underside of his head, tasting the salt of his skin and the muskiness of his scent. There’s no other way to describe him other than masculine perfection, to be very honest. His spongy head throbs on your tongue as you suck languidly on him, teasing drip after drip of precum from his straining length.

“Please-!” McCree gasps as his eyes roll into the back of his head. “Please, don’t stop!” His husky drawl is airy and thick with his twang, sounding oh so seductive. 

You hum, lifting your head off his cock with a sharp pop. “Stop?”

“Don’t stop,” he repeats himself, biting his lips and begging you to continue with his hazel eyes. “Please?”

Hmmm, you do like it when he begs like that. But you also want to continue watching your show; the commercial is over. “Maybe later.” You laugh off his pleading gaze as you sit back upright and cuddle into his side, pinning his legs down with yours and his hands to his sides with a stern command. “Be a good boy and keep quiet for me, okay? I want to hear the show.”

McCree digs his teeth into his lip, eyes already glued to your hand caressing and squeezing at his blushing cock. What show? The only show he’s aware of is the one happening in his lap, and the star of it is your hand languidly stroking the tip of his cock like it’s a worry stone.


	110. Reinhardt - Tired of Waiting (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Tired of Waiting :3

Reinhardt leans over to his bedside table to withdraw a surprisingly large bottle of lube. It's easily the same size as your bottle of lotion, and you quirk a brow at him. The German blushes, mumbles something about needing more lube to jerk off as he gives you the bottle. The mere thought of him struggling to lubricate his massive cock makes you laugh; well, laugh and squirm at the thought of lubing up that massive cock so you can slide it into you.

Fantasies aside, you tell him to give you his hand. He furrows his brow at you but obeys, watches you douse his fingers in lube and compare the size of your palms. Yes, one of his fingers is almost as thick as two of yours.

He watches a wide smirk cross your face, feels you pull his hand to your crotch. His heart starts to thunder in his chest and his eyes widen when he realises what you're intending to do. Oh god, oh hell yes. He licks his lightly chapped lips, those clear blue eyes locked on your hand as it pulls your panties to the side, as it guides his hands close enough for the tips of his fingers to graze over your soft pussy lips.

Even through the lube, he can tell that you're soaking wet, can feel it on his calloused fingers as you slide one finger into your silky tightness.

A moan is ripped out of you at the feeling of his finger stretching you open, your lashes fluttering as you sink all the way down to his palm. It's incredible how this feels so good; you haven't even ground your clit against his palm but you're already clenching around him like you're close to your orgasm.

On his end, Reinhardt gulps and wriggles his finger just a little bit. You flutter around him, lips parting in a moan, hands tightening on his wrist and his bicep as you shift your weight so he feels your clit grind hard against his palm. " _Sheisse_ , you feel so good," he whispers, turning his gaze up and looking into your eyes as he begs. "Can I put another finger in you?"

"Hmm, so eager~" You're purring now, scratching at his chest and tugging at his chest hair as you rock against his finger a little more. "Do you deserve to put another finger inside my pussy, hm?"

He shivers a little, jaw clenching, and shakes his head ever so slightly, "I-I don't, but please, mercy, ma'am." His free hand closes around your waist. " _Bitte_? I just want to feel you." That finger swirls inside you, probing and exploring and looking for that one spot inside you that would make fire burst through your veins.

"Hmm," you hum and tap your lips as if thinking. But your hands are working ahead of your mouth, angling his middle finger and feeling yourself stretch so deliciously. The squelch as he sinks into you is obscene, but not nearly as obscene as the wet sounds of your pussy sliding up and down his fingers as you fuck it as you would any other cock. "God, your fingers are so big."

Reinhardt is almost hyperventilating now, his cock throbbing and leaking as though it could feel your warmth as his fingers do. He can't take his eyes off where you're both joined, can't stop looking at how his fingers honestly look like a regular cock stretching you open. "Will I...will I hurt you?" Then he looks at his cock bobbing at your thigh, resting like a hot poker against your skin. "I'm so much-I'm so much bigger than-"

Your finger over his lips stops him. "Trust me, Reinhardt." Your voice turns low and serious, stuffing two more of his fingers inside you in quick succession to show him how much you've relaxed. "I know what I can take. It will hurt me a little, I won't lie, but that's half the fun when you're a size queen." Then you wink and wrap your fingers around his cock, "I will get this mammoth cock inside me one way or another."

That declaration only turns Reinhardt on even more. He's panting now, squeezing your waist and shifting his fingers in you to probe deeper, explore the depths of you that a cock could only reach. You're clamping down on him so tightly, your pussy lips pulled tight over his knuckles as you rise up and fall down on his hand. 

A rough grunt interrupts his drooling. 

"Move your hand, Reinhardt," your voice is rough. "I can't do all the work, now can I?"

"Nein, ma'am." Without another word, he braces your hip and flexes his impressive forearm muscles, withdrawing his fingers then plunging them deep into you in the space of a heartbeat. 

You gasp with a wide smile on your face, shifting your grip to his shoulder and his forearm to anchor your body - and your brain - as he finger fucks the senses out of you. "Oh fuck!" His fingers curl, each fingertip hitting a different spot all at once and stretching you wide open, the slight burn only heightening your pleasure. "Th-curl your finger a little lowe-there!" Head thrown back, you clutch at his forearm and rut hard against that curled finger - the pad of his calloused finger is placed perfectly to press against your g-spot no matter how you move. 

Reaching out blindly, you grab his other hand and pull it down to your clit. "Put your hand on me," you moan loudly, too far gone to regulate your volume. "Come on, rub my clit~ Put those callouses to good use, big boy." 

Reinhardt blushes madly at how explicit you are with your instructions and his hand shakes as he obeys, his thumb dwarfing your throbbing clit. But that alone is enough to propel you closer to the edge and you tell him so, your voice breathy and husky from moaning and growling. The proclamation hastens his hands as they fuck you and rub you, as they wring out swears from your body. 

He's sitting up now, his cock leaking profusely onto your hip and thigh and looking oh so painfully hard. You're collapsed on his chest now, biting down on his meaty shoulder with one hand pinning his wrist to the vee of your thighs and the other closing around the head of his twitching cock. 

"Oh-!" Now Reinhardt is the one to gasp and falter, his hand's rhythm stuttering when you start jerking off his cock desperately. "M-ma'am, you don't have to-"

Your eyes, dark and pleasure drunk, bore into his blue ones as you snarl. "I want your cum all over me. But you don't cum until I say so."

" _Verstanden_ ," he wheezes with squinty eyes, his jaw clenching as he focuses on your pussy clamping down painfully on his fingers instead of your hand playing with the sensitive head of his cock. But it's hard. It's so fucking hard; he's so fucking close that he doubles his efforts to make you cum.

He can feel your breasts press against him as you plaster yourself against him, chest to chest, belly to belly, lip to lip. Even your kisses are intoxicating, muddling his brain and scrambling all thoughts save for the one that reduces him to a salivating beast. There's no other way to describe how he kisses you save that he returns your hunger with equal passion, nipping your lips and tangling his tongue with yours. His lips are bright red with bites and kisses by the time you pull away from him, much to his consternation. Luckily for him, it doesn't bother him for long because you're cumming around his fingers the second you break the kiss.

"Oh fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, fuck me hard! Fuck me hard, Reinhardt, harder! Faster-faster-!" Your teeth are bared and your face contorted into an angry snarl as you orgasm with all the force of a hurtling freight train. You clamp your thighs closed around his wrist and his muscular thigh, your nails digging into his flesh as spasms wrack your body. 

On his end, Reinhardt whimpers pathetically as he keeps his fingers moving, powering through the muscles squeezing him tightly in waves. The slick dripping out of you helps immensely, soaking his hand, his fingers and his thigh until droplets fly all over the place from the speed he finger fucks you at. 

A thin scream streams from between your gritted teeth as your orgasm goes on and on and on and doesn't seem to end. In a hurry, you rip his fingers out of you and angle his cock at your pussy lips. Before Reinhardt can stop you or do anything, you sink down as far as you can manage, stuffing his monster cock inside of you in small increments until you're halfway down his cock.

The massive German knight chokes out a scream too, a baritone to your higher pitched voice, but equally as impassioned. What he felt around his fingers is now clenching around his cock, massaging and milking him until he has to clutch at your hips with a panicked look on his handsome face. "I'm close! _Bitte, bitte, frau_!" His hips are moving against his will, fucking up into you and helping you sink further and further down his cock until you whimper that you feel so full.  
"Oh god, you're so fucking big," you moan with literal tears in your eyes at how good he feels. His thumb, still on your clit, never stops moving, never stops helping you lubricate your way down. "You're so fucking big, I can't believe it!" You keep repeating yourself mindlessly, praising his size and telling him to move, to keep fucking you gently until you're all the way down. 

But Reinhardt is already babbling that he can't hold it back, that he's so close to cumming that he'll spill before you can get all the way down. You toss your head, clawing at his chest and neck as you keep forcing yourself down. "Hold it, Reinhardt," you growl and grab his jaw to force him to look at you. "Don't you dare cum."

"I can't hold it." His voice is a thin wheeze, so quiet in contrast to his regular speaking volume, strain so evident in his tone and his expression that it makes you laugh. 

"Well, you're going to have to," you threaten him with a dangerous purr. "I'm almost...almost all the way down." You curl your hand around the base of his cock to show him he's only got a finger or two left to go. "Just hold on, big guy. Just a liiiitle more~"

Your knight is shaking uncontrollably now, his barrel chest heaving as he struggles to draw in enough air to cure the lightheadedness he feels. Fire trickles through his veins now, signalling to him that he really can't hold it, he really can't stop himself from cumming before you do. "Please, I'm so close~" His scrambled brain can't handle translating any longer, his tongue reverting to German to beg you incessantly. "I can't hold it anymore, please let me cum, mistress, please!~" He's panting like a dog, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he licks his lips and tries to mop up the stream of drool trickling from the corner of his mouth. "Please please! Have mercy on me, mistress, have mercy on your slave."

But you're shaking your head, telling him he has to hold on just a bit longer. "Just until I'm balls deep, Reinhardt." As you speak, you quicken your pace, bouncing up and down his huge cock to open yourself up and to find space where there isn't any. You're absolutely crammed full of his man meat but you need to find more space, you need to stuff all of his glorious thickness inside you, one way or another. And then, when he dips his head to hoist your breast into his mouth, you find that space and before you know it, you can feel his massive balls pressing against your asshole and your cheek. 

That's the ticket.

Reinhardt sobs as he ruts up into you, body demanding that he fuck you fast and hard but his position and your stern hand telling him otherwise. Under his breath, he's chanting 'please' over and over again, his beard scratching your skin raw as he sucks and licks at your nipple needily. Inside you, precum leaks into you, going from clear to pearlescent as his orgasm wells up inside him. 

Luckily for him, you're finally satisfied and you grant him permission with a wide grin. "Cum for me, big boy. Give me all your cum and fill me up."

"Thank you!" Tears fall from his eyes as fire and lightning ravage his body, taking over his mind until he wraps his huge arms around you in a tight hug. His palms dwarf your ass as he pins you to his hips, anchoring you down as he fucks you hard and fast in small little thrusts through his orgasm. It's like he's turned into the lion he's been rumoured to be on the battlefield, teeth biting down on the curve of your breast as he roars into your skin. Within you, his seed spills out of him in strong spurts, filling you with such warmth that you squirm and cum around his cock too.

It's weaker this time - your orgasm, but it's no less pleasurable, particularly now that you have something thicker and longer to clench around as you cum. Your new boy toy trembles and moans as your pussy milks his cum out of him, prolonging his orgasm just that smidgen longer to turn him to jelly. 

Winded and brainless, Reinhardt flops back onto the bed with you on his chest, eyes rolling into the back of his head and his face going slack in unconsciousness. You're both covered in a thin layer of sweat, you more so than he since you did most of the work this time. For the time being, you leave his half-hard cock inside you, marvelling how he's still bigger than most of your lovers despite it softening. Atop him, you sit up tiredly and knead at his chest, praising him for his stamina and how good he was for you.

He's barely conscious, but enough that he blushes at your praise and squirms a little in embarrassment at how you're singing his praises in bed. In fact, he likes your praises so much that his cock twitches back to life inside you, hardening enough that he slips out of you with a slick squelch. 

"Ooo, I like that kind of stamina in a man," you coo at him with a predatory grin. You toss your hair behind your back and reach for the discarded hair tie, piling your hair atop your head so you can tie it into a messy bun. "Give me ten minutes and I'll be ready to play again. In the meantime...how do you feel about being fingered?"

His dazed eyes grow wide. "F-fingered...where?"

You douse your fingers in more lube, keeping eye contact with him as you slip between his thighs instead of straddling his hips. "Your ass, of course. Now open up."


End file.
